


The Perfect Storm

by proser132



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-10
Updated: 2012-04-10
Packaged: 2017-11-03 09:45:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/380041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/proser132/pseuds/proser132
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>...And it all came together in the perfect storm. M, RoyEd. X-post from FFN.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Perfect Storm

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is a repost from FFN, which will keep happening for a while until all my pseuds are caugth up, and then this site will start getting things that won't be posted on FFN at all. -smiles evilly-
> 
> This is a massive story, so don't read it unless you have some time on your hands!

**The Perfect Storm**

* * *

Outside the train's window, snow flurried in stark, intricate patterns, almost immediately obliterated by the slipstream only to form a new one, and a new one. Edward Elric noticed this in a far off portion of his mind; the rest of his mind was occupied with not lashing out at the man who was reading quietly in the seat across from him.

Roy Mustang turned the page of the Central Times calmly, choosing to ignore his subordinate entirely; if the slightly-disgruntled cast to his face was anything to go by, though, he was just as displeased about the whole arrangement as Ed.

Ed choked back a growl; it was his fault! If he hadn't suggested the idea in the first place, neither he nor Ed would be on this damn train two days before the holidays, headed for Northern Amestris. Like it wasn't cold enough in Central as it was; now they were both practically exiled to the North Pole.

Fucker deserved it, but what had Ed done? The last building he had blown up was two missions ago, and he'd already paid back the debt. He had done nothing to deserve his punishment.

'If you glare any harder at that window, it's going to melt,' Mustang said, folding his paper smartly and setting it aside. 'Is there something wrong?'

Ed rolled his eyes at the man before returning to stare out the window. While, normally, there was nothing he enjoyed more than a good volley of insults (end sarcasm), he knew when he was being baited. Perhaps under different circumstances, he would explode regardless of the consequences, but if he had to suffer through this he was _not_ going to entertain the bored Mustang.

'The silent treatment, then?' Mustang said, reclining slightly. He looked off to his left, outside the compartment, before adding, 'No small feat for you, I'd suppose.'

Ed twitched, but managed to hold his glare to the snow outside and his tongue from snapping back. There was nothing worth giving Mustang what he wanted.

The man glanced over at him, and Ed felt a surge of triumph at the obvious glint of befuddlement in the man's reflection. Fucker thought he could rile him up? Take _that_.

'Fullmetal, the least you could do is talk to me,' Mustang snapped. 'It's your fault we're here.'

...That was _it_. 'Excuse me?' Ed growled, turning in his seat to glare pure fire at the bastard across from him. ' _My_ fault? Who the fuck suggested the alchemist that went should have a partner?'

'Who was the one who said there was suspected spy activity in the North in the middle of a meeting about the ongoing war with Drachma?' Roy replied, his voice honestly irritated. Good; that meant this was an actual fight, not one of Mustang's attempts to entertain himself.

'Who was the one who dragged me to the meeting in the first place?' Ed demanded. 'Or sent me off to scout the damned spy ring two weeks before when you heard word that one of your informants had gotten his stupid ass captured?'

'Reynolds is a good man,' Mustang replied haughtily, glaring. 'Besides, he knows too much about internal affairs; he could give away military secrets under torture.'

'Dammit, Mustang, I found him in a hotel hiding from your messengers and cheating on his wife with a minor!' Ed snarled. 'If that is your definition of a good man, you need to have your priorities rearranged. And, second, so what if he was involved in IA? You know and I know that the whole of the thing is encrypted and he only knew half of the encryption code. The other half is with a guy who lives on the Cretian border.'

'Half an encryption code –'

'To a bunch of old military secrets that no one gives a shit about any more,' Ed rolled his eyes again. 'In other words: this is _entirely_ your fault, Mustang, so shut your mouth before I transmute it closed.'

'You wouldn't dare,' Mustang glared.

'Wanna bet?' Ed grinned, baring his teeth. ' _Please_ give me an excuse to get money off you _and_ shut you up once and for all.'

The thing was, Ed was in a foul enough mood to try it. Still glaring, Mustang opened his mouth to respond, but Ed's held-out hands kept whatever words that were going to come out firmly in the realm of Mustang's thoughts.

'Now, if you'll excuse me,' Ed smiled, speaking in the most sickeningly polite voice he could conjure up, 'I'm going to stare out the window and barely restrain myself from turning my CO into a pile of ash.'

'Much obliged,' Mustang said under his breath, obviously irritated; however, he picked up his paper again.

Several more tense moments passed, before Ed sighed and turned back to the other man. 'How much longer until we get there?' he asked, making sure his words came out sharp and clearly annoyed.

Mustang stifled a yawn and checked his pocket watch. 'Another ten minutes, if the snow doesn't make us too late,' he replied, before turning another page in the newspaper. He was silent a moment more, then his gaze flicked back up to Ed's. 'The snow may be a major impediment to finishing the mission in the original time-frame,' he mused. 'Altogether an undesirable result.'

'No shit,' Ed snorted. 'My automail freezes up when it's too cold. It was bad enough in Central.'

A strange looked passed through Mustang's eyes. 'How quickly does it start to slow you down?' he asked, frowning.

'Depends on how cold it is,' Ed shrugged. 'If it's below zero plus wind chill you've got roughly a ten-minute window in which I can act. No wind, you've got twenty minutes. If it's in the teens or higher I can usually muscle through it.'

The look returned to settle in Mustang's eyes – a strange quirk of the eyebrow, an extra crease at the corner of his eye that wasn't usually there. An odd light, too. 'You seem to know your limits reasonably well.'

'Kind of comes with the territory,' Ed scowled. 'Every time you send me north I freeze my ass off.' Ed turned to glare out at the whirling snow. 'At least you never sent me in winter.'

'Fullmetal, why didn't you tell me your automail freezes up?' Mustang asked, though from the sharp note Ed could tell it was more of a demand.

Ed turned back to glare at him. 'You mean you didn't know? Congratulations on being so observant,' he said sarcastically. 'I've only worked for you for nine years, glad to see you've paid attention. I'm certain I've mentioned it before.'

The man looked away, back at the article he was reading. Ed looked closely at the paper, then began to chuckle very quietly. Mustang looked at him sharply. 'What is it?' he asked darkly.

'If you're going to try hiding from me, you might as well make it believable and make sure the damn thing is right-side-up,' Ed pointed out, and hid a grin as Mustang shuffled it around. If he wasn't mistaken, there was a faint tinge of pink on the man's cheeks. Ten points to Ed.

Suddenly, there was the abrupt shudders of the engineer applying the brakes; Ed immediately stood, resisting the tremors and stretching. 'About fuckin' time,' he said, hearing his back crack. 'We've been on this damn train how long?'

'This train? Since this morning, when we got off the red-eye train at about five-thirty,' Mustang said, waiting for the train to slow further before chancing his legs on the shaking floor. 'Which we got on at about eight o'clock last night.'

'This is entirely your fault,' Ed said, reaching up to retrieve his suitcase from the overhead rack. 'I could have been home, reading, or researching, or –'

'Being thoroughly boring,' Mustang rolled his eyes. 'Some of us are actually missing out on something.'

'What? Had to stand up some sleazy date for your mistake?' Ed rolled his eyes. 'I bet you're not missing out on much.'

Mustang glared. 'I _did_ have a date tonight,' he said, and Ed squashed down his grin of triumph. 'Then I was going to go visit my family.'

Ed blinked at that; somehow, he had never really thought of Mustang having a family. Certainly, he'd never thought the man to have gone to visit them; whenever Ed entered the office, Mustang was there with an infuriating grin and another stupid mission.

'Some of us have people we value, Fullmetal, and would like to spend our holidays with,' Mustang said, sounding bitter. 'So the sooner this is over, the sooner I can go see them.'

Ed flipped him off to hide the sting the comment had brought him; it was one thing to be reminded that he had no family other than his brother, and quite another to be reminded in the course of an argument.

Mustang almost looked like he wanted to take the comment back, but Ed cut him off before he could open his mouth and make an already awkward situation worse. 'Let's get out of here, then, and get this over with. I'm looking forward to some sleep that's not on a train seat.'

He swept out of the compartment, making every movement as natural and indifferent as possible; fuck Mustang, but he wasn't going to let the bastard know how deep a nerve he'd hit.

Ed stepped out of the car into a blast of Arctic air, and he shivered violently as the cold seemed to target his automail ports. Clenching his teeth tightly, he moved out of the way so that Mustang could step down.

The taller man sucked in a tight breath when the wind hit him. 'How are you holding up?' he asked Ed, fighting to be heard over the howl of ice and the already departing train; they were the only passengers insane enough to come up to Sobren this time of year. 'Your automail, I mean.'

'Can we just get to the damn hotel or wherever we're staying already?' Ed demanded, glaring. 'I'm fine for now, but if you keep me in the fuckin' wind I'll freeze in place!' He shivered again, a full-body racking as the cold fought with the many layers he was wearing to reach the metal, finding every opening, every tiny space between stitches. 'It has to be forty _fuckin_ ' below,' he swore, then clamped his jaw tight to fight another shudder.

Damn, it had been _ages_ since he had been this cold so quickly. Mustang gripped his upper arm, the weird look in his eyes again. 'It's not far,' he said, already starting off to the right. 'This storm is much larger than was predicted,' he thought aloud.

'Can we ooh and aah at the storm when my arm isn't about to fall off?' Ed demanded testily. Mustang's hand on his other arm was an almost-welcome source of warmth; it was the first time Mustang had ever touched him without trying to knock him out, and saying it was a weird experience was an understatement.

He followed Mustang's fast pace, hurrying down one featureless street after another, each one merely a passage of whirling snow; eventually they came to a mass of small lumps, one of which Mustang made a beeline for.

Stopping in front of it, the taller man took his hand off Ed's arm to fish in his pocket for something, which as soon as Ed recognised it as a key he dropped it.

'Shit!' He heard Mustang swear, and, rolling his eyes, he crouched and eyed the snow.

Down here, the wind was less, and it only took him a moment to spot the copper sparkle. Sifting his automail fingers through the snow, he stood again with the key in his grip and held it out to Mustang. 'Dip-shit,' he said, glaring.

Mustang took the key, glaring back, and unlocked the door. Pushing Ed in front of him, they entered the lump.

Shutting the door behind himself, Mustang snapped his fingers; across the small room, a fire blazed to life in a small grate. He pushed Ed again, making the shorter man stumble.

'Over there,' he commanded. 'Now. Warm up or you're going to be useless in the morning.'

Ed flipped him the bird once he'd regained his balance; leave it to him to make a kind gesture bastardly. 'Fucker,' he muttered, flopping down in front of the fire.

There was no response from the other man; he was walking the perimeter of the room, lighting lamps.

It was small, but comfortable; there was a small kitchenette, a bathroom, and two twin beds at the end of the room.

'Where are we?' Ed asked, sitting up long enough to remove all of his top layers but his tank top before flopping back down. The heat was already doing wonders for the automail port at his shoulder, and he could feel his blood beginning to thaw.

'The hotel we're staying at,' Mustang said, shooting him a look. 'Your arm – is it getting better?'

'On its way,' Ed replied, rolling the port; there were only faint twinges of pain. 'Luckily, the less time I spend outside the less time it take for it warm up again.' He stood and walked over to a window, whistling as he saw the blizzard outside. 'If it doesn't stop soon, we're going to be snowed in.' He grimaced; great, exactly how he wanted to spend his non-religious holidays – prisoner with Mustang.

'I don't think it's going to stop soon enough,' Mustang said, coming to stand beside Ed. 'I'll probably have to dig us out tomorrow morning.'

The fire in the grate flickered as a gust rocked the tiny structure; Ed winced. 'We might have to focus on just getting through,' he said grudgingly. 'This looks like a whiteout.' he looked up at Mustang. 'Thanks a lot.'

'You're bound and determined to blame me for this, aren't you?' Mustang said, eyes sharp and dangerous.

'Of course,' Ed glared right back. 'Placing the blame where it belongs.' He walked over to the door and unlaced his boots, leaving them beside the jamb, and walked over to the bed closest to the door. 'Now, I'm going to sleep. No use going crazy over something I can't do anything about.' he shrugged. 'If you wake me up, I will kill you. No exceptions.'

There was no response, but then again, he hadn't really left room for one. He flopped down on the bed and wormed under the covers; he could see Mustang against the firelight, a stark black silhouette in the glow, but the sight grew fuzzier and darker until Ed finally closed his eyes and fell asleep.

* * *

When Ed woke, the only light in the room was cast by the dying fire. He stumbled out of the bed, swearing softly under his breath; it was cold in the room, and he resuscitated the fire with a soft clap of his hands.

Then he stretched, before realising what was wrong.

His eyes widened. 'Shit,' he said. 'Shit, shit, shit.' He looked over to the other bed, where the taller man was sound asleep. 'Mustang!'

Mustang sat up with a sharp movement, eyes wide in shock; he looked over at Ed, already glaring. 'So I can't wake you up, but you can wake me?' he said, the disgust in his voice evident.

'Shut up, and look around,' Ed snapped. 'Notice anything?'

Mustang rolled his eyes. 'You relit the fire? Congratulations. Glad to see you can master rudimentary alchemy.'

'No, you bastard!' Ed snarled. 'Look at the _window_!'

Mustang glowered at the window in question. 'I don't –' his eyes widened. 'Impossible.'

'Looks pretty possible to me,' Ed said, glaring.

Outside, only the smallest ray of light made it through the panes of glass; otherwise, the snow had buried the little structure entirely.

'Snowed in, huh?' Ed asked, still glaring and making sure to put as much poison in his voice as possible. 'This is _so_ your fault.'

Mustang just stared at the window. He pinched the bridge of his nose. '...God damn it.'

'Oh, don't worry, your fucking god already _has_ ,' Ed snapped. 'Got a plan?'

If the look on Mustang's face was anything to go by, he didn't have a fucking _clue_.

'Fine then, be an idiot,' Ed sighed. 'First, we need to make sure we have a way to exchange air; snow's pretty air-tight, and the deeper it is the more it's been packed by pressure. We need to punch a hole to the surface. The window's probably best for that.' He walked over to the window and threw it open, showering himself with snow. ' _Fuck_ , that's _freezing_.'

Looking back, he saw Mustang just staring. 'Okay,' Ed sighed, 'You're obviously useless without coffee or something in the morning. Get yourself up, then help me get the fuck out of here. Unless you want me to shock you awake?'

Mustang shook his head, still looking pretty out of it, and stood. Ed rolled his eyes, but returned to the snow; if Mustang didn't get up, so be it. He'd just wake the bastard up by dumping snow down his collar – Gate knew there was enough to spare.

Ed considered the solid wall of snow before him, poking it; there was give, but not a lot. It had obviously had time to settle.

Then pushing the snow out of the way was a dumb idea; he could do it, but it would take more energy then he cared to use. 'Fuck,' he muttered. What to –

He wanted to smack himself when it occurred to him; apparently, he was no better in the morning than Mustang. 'Oi! Bastard! Get over hear and help me with this!'

'What? The Hero of the People can't manage to make a hole in snow?' The man whose legitimacy was in question snapped, walking over with a cup of something steaming.

'Shut up,' Ed growled. 'I need fire – you're kind of the go to guy for that. Unless you exaggerated about your evaluation scores.'

Mustang rolled his eyes and set down his cup; it chinked on the edge of the sill, and dark coffee spilled on the snow. The ice crystals melted, only to harden again when the brown mass rested against more snow; Ed realised what was about to happen when Mustang pulled on his left glove.

'No, wait!' Ed said, yanking Mustang's arm back as he prepared to snap. 'Fire it off and we'll only end up with a lot of water – and eventually a lot of ice.'

'Well?' Mustang snapped testily. 'You wanted fire, and now you don't. Make up your mind before I roast _you_.'

'Just fuckin' try it,' Ed glared. 'Hold on.' He clapped his hands and set them gently on the sill; an array burned itself into the wood. 'Direct your alchemy toward _that_ , and I'll take it from there.'

Mustang studied the array, his frown deepening until he admitted, 'That might work.'

'Of course it will – everything I do works,' Ed grumbled. 'It just doesn't always work out the way _you_ wanted it.'

'My, we're snippy this morning, aren't we?' Mustang replied, and snapped.

Ed felt the energy as it passed through the array into him, a living heat in the very pit of his stomach; it burned through his body, straight through his heart, both painful and exhilarating. He forced it through the array, teeth clenched at the intensity of it, and directed it up through the snow.

As the fire melted the snow, a sweeping chill of ice followed, sealing it into a tunnel, and it was only when Ed sucked in a breath of the cold air from outside did he realise how stale the air inside had been.

'Well done,' Mustang said, face clearly puzzled, 'but I didn't put that much fire into it. You were struggling, weren't you?'

'Shut your mouth,' Ed snapped, red-faced. 'You obviously gave more than you thought you did.'

'No, I didn't,' Mustang snapped, glaring. 'I know exactly what I gave. You must have amplified it.'

'There's no amplification sigil in the array!' Ed pointed out, gesturing toward the circle in question. 'There's no way it could have happened.'

'It had to have been the circle,' Mustang argued back. 'It wasn't me.'

'It wasn't the circle,' Ed insisted, glaring.

'Oh, shut up, Edward,' Mustang snapped. Ed gaped.

'Oi! Where do you get off calling my by name?' He demanded.

Mustang looked as surprised at the slip up as Ed, but scowled anyway. 'I can call you whatever I want,' he replied, then as an afterthought, 'Edward.'

'Keep it up,' Ed threatened. Mustang saying his name was downright _strange_ – it sounded all wrong. He didn't know what it was – some way Mustang made the syllables sound – that just struck him as supremely irritating.

'I'm going to _kill_ you one of these days,' he muttered under his breath; to his surprise, Mustang's lips quirked slightly. Almost like he wanted to smile.

'Are we going to do the same thing out the door?' Mustang asked, already walking over to it briskly. Ed followed much more slowly, scowling less out of irritation that... _puzzlement_. Why on earth would Roy Mustang want to smile at his own death? Sure, Ed would never go through with it – who else would he torture? – but he wasn't opposed to putting the man in a three day coma if he kept up the short jokes.

'Yes, we're doing the same thing out the door,' Ed rolled his eyes. Mustang's eyebrow rose at the pause between question and answer, and Ed scowled. 'Call me Edward again and I'll have to start calling you Roy,' he snapped darkly, then flushed when Mustang began to laugh loudly.

'Whatever you say,' Mustang replied between gasps for air, ' _Ed._ '

Ed flinched at that; not because Roy had said his name, but because the way he had said it felt strangely... _right_ in Ed's ears. The syllable was a perfect circle of sound, an array that, weirdly enough, heightened the heat in Ed's cheeks to a near-unbearable temperature – along with his temper. The stark juxtaposition from a few minutes before irritated the already sore anger further, and he glared at the still laughing man.

'Fuck you, _Roy_ ,' he snarled, and Mustang's laughter stopped abruptly. He stared down at him, obviously quite shocked at his name following Ed's usual epithet. Ed flushed harder. 'What?' he snapped. 'If you get to call me Ed, I get to call you Roy!'

Mustang flinched. 'I am your commanding officer,' he said, voice slightly strangled.

'You're also a _prick_ ,' Ed snorted, and flung open the door.

Which, in and of itself, was a terrible idea; as soon as the barrier was out of the way, Ed was engulfed in a white flood of snow, the freezing crystals seemingly targeting every square inch of exposed skin (and quite a few that weren't.)

Ed fought his way out of the pile, spitting out mouthfuls of snow angrily, and he growled when his ears were clear – Roy was howling with laughter, abandoning his coffee and earlier exhaustion to his mirth.

'Oh, God,' Roy managed through his uproar, and was quite unable to manage anything else until Ed had wrestled out of the snow. At that moment, Mustang had calmed down enough to arch his eyebrow at the younger man. 'You know that if you had stepped a foot to either side you would have been fine, correct?'

'You will shut your mouth,' Ed replied darkly, shaking snow out of his hair.

'Or what?' Roy replied, and Ed gaped at him; there was no way Roy's voice had been... _playful_. Was there? No. He must have imagined it. No other explanation.

'Or I'll shut it for you,' Ed replied a little belatedly. Roy arched his eyebrow, but said nothing as Ed brushed the last of the snow off his pants. 'Now, can we get the fuck out of here?'

'We can give it a shot,' Roy said, and waited while Ed set the array into the wood of the floor. 'Think you can handle it this time?'

Ed flashed him a grin that he suspected wasn't too unlike a shark's smile. 'Bring it,' he said, and set his fingers on the array as Roy snapped.

Again, that burst of power unlike anything Ed had ever felt – intoxicating, almost, in the sheer weight of its pressure on his body. But now, he was a little more familiar with it, a little more familiar with the flicker and snap of fire along his veins, and the tang of ice that the array he had set lended it. He held it within for a moment, almost... _enjoying_ the heady weight of the alchemy in every muscle and nerve of his body, before releasing it with a swipe of his arm toward the wall of snow that separated them from the outside world.

An arch of flame, perfectly formed in its brilliance, slid through the snow easily; before the water could so much as drip on the floor, the array froze it into a passage, leading out to –

A very startled-looking group of people.

Ed blinked at that and stood up, staring at them in quite the same state of shock that they were staring at him and Roy with. Then...

'That was _still_ more flame than I gave you,' Roy remarked.

Ed whirled, glaring. 'I told you, there was no amplification sigil in that array! You can just take your stupid theories and shove them where the –'

'May I ask who you are?' Roy said, cutting through Ed's tirade smoothly, his dark eyes trained on the man who was apparently in charge. The man was taller than even Mustang ( _Everyone's a fuckin' giant_ , Ed snarled in his head) but considerably more muscled; in fact, he looked like he could give both Sig _and_ Armstrong a run for their money. But he looked considerably more bewildered.

'You made it through that storm?' the man replied. 'Oh, thank God. I've been putting off sending a dispatch back to one of your officers because I didn't know what had happened to you. I'm the inn's manager and owner.'

'Ah,' Roy smiled, and walked through the ice passage. Ed followed, still grumbling internally; when he stepped out, though, he couldn't help but gape.

One road throughout the entire city was plowed, and that was it. Everything was buried ten feet deep in massive snow drifts that sparkled in the falsely cheerful sunlight; he squinted against the brightness, the sight putting his teeth on edge.

'Where are the people?' Ed demanded before anyone could say anything further. 'There's –' it took a brief glance to catalogue the manager's companions, 'Eight of you. This city has at least twelve thousand people within the centre alone. Where is everyone else?'

The manager's look of pain was as abrupt as it was startling. 'They're buried under the snow. This happens every year, but this time we had no warning –'

'They're _buried_?' Ed repeated, a sick wave of bile in his throat. 'They must have been buried for _hours_ – their air must be running out –'

The manager looked as ill as Ed felt. 'I know, but we can't dig them out. The plows can only –'

Ed snatched up Roy's wrist and took off running, the bewildered Flame Alchemist stumbling after.

'What the hell are you doing, Ed?' Roy demanded, as the manager and the others followed, obviously shocked. Again, the sound of his name in Roy's voice sounded _right_ to Ed's ears, but he only had a second to notice and wonder before they skidded to a halt in front of the nearest home.

Ed scooped up a handful of snow and pack it together, swearing at the cold, before throwing it at the barely-visible top of a window. After a moment, it opened a crack, and a soft whisper made its way to Ed's ears. 'Hello...?' a cough. 'Servil...?'

'Tell me where your door is!' Ed shouted, and there was a pause.

'A foot or so to your left – I mean, right. Your right, my left.' A hysterical giggle, and Ed finally pegged the speaker as a woman. 'I'm going to die in this little room, oh, God...'

A softer voice, a little boy's. 'Don't cry, Mama...'

'Give me your hand,' Ed demanded of Roy, who looked bewildered. 'And snap when I say so.'

'But I'll burn –'

'Just fuckin' _do_ it!' Ed shouted hoarsely. He grabbed Roy's ungloved right hand and knelt in one swift movement, sketching out the array. 'Now!'

The sound of a single snap filled the hollow street, and Ed slammed his hand down on the array. Static electricity flooded along Mustang's skin directly onto Ed's, red and sharp in its power, and when it flooded through Ed it took on an edge of his desperation, of his anger. It exploded outward in a spiral of flame, and sweeping behind it was a curtain of ice, a lattice of safety that ended abruptly at the wooden door and brick wall of the building.

Ed released Roy's hand, sprinting before he was fully upright, and the soft thumps that followed on his heels told him that Roy wasn't far behind. Ed opened the door, and a woman stumbled out, a little boy clinging to her skirt.

She looked around in the tunnel of ice, awestruck. 'I...' her voice sounded wrecked. 'Am I dreaming?'

The little boy was silent, looking at Ed fastidiously; then he said, very quietly, 'Did you save us?'

'Yes,' Ed nodded. He jerked a thumb back at Roy. 'Him 'n me, anyway.'

The kid gave him a suddenly watery smile. His mother picked him up, looking terrified and relieved all at once. 'Thank you,' she whispered. Her eyes past them and settled on the manager, who looked terrified out of his mind; she rushed forward, past Ed and past Roy, and buried herself in his arms. 'Oh, God, Servil,' she said shakily. 'I thought we were – I thought you were – when you didn't come home last night I –'

'I'm safe, Marina, I'm safe,' Servil said, sounding relieved beyond measure. He looked up at the two startled alchemists. 'Thank you.'

Ed almost replied, but then he felt his face blanch. 'No time!' Ed snapped. 'How many alchemists do you have here?'

'None with me,' Servil said regretfully, and Ed swore. 'And the ones we do have are all buried.'

'Shit,' Ed muttered. He glanced at Roy, who was watching him with an odd look. Then, a Plan formed in his mind. Plan with a capital "P".

'Do you have a line to Central?' Ed demanded, and Servil nodded. 'Good. Contact Brigadier General Maes Hughes and –'

'—tell him that Major General Roy Mustang requests backup,' Roy cut in, not even looking at Ed when he glared. 'The town of Sobren is officially declared a disaster area – you don't have enough resources to take control on your own. Where is the local military manager?'

'We have one, but he's useless,' Servil said. 'He'll probably be dead before the day is out, due to cold.' There was a distinct note of bitterness. 'We've reached an accord – he enforces the law, and I take care of the people. In other words, you're talking to the leader.'

Ed resisted a grin at the look of surprise on Roy's face; Ed had seen countless arrangements like this over the years. 'Good,' he said briskly, relishing the look Roy gave him – a little bit irritated, a little bit curious. 'Then it seems we're relying on you. What are the resources available?'

'We've got three plow trucks and a lot of shovels,' Servil replied, smiling slightly.

Ed scowled at that. 'Fuck, this just got harder,' he muttered.

'You don't have an open line of transport right now, do you?' Roy said quickly, before Ed could continue. 'The trains can't get through that snow, can they?'

'Not in the slightest,' Servil nodded.

'Then get on the phone and get backup. Tell the Brigadier General that Major Hawkeye should be in charge of the logistics, and Captains Havoc and Fuery in charge of transport.' Roy sounded every bit the leader at that moment, every bit the person in charge. 'The Fullmetal Alchemist and I will see to the clearing of roads. Are the hospitals raised high enough, or are they also buried?'

'One of the two hospitals is raised, it should be fine. The other is technically a clinic.' Servil suggested. 'Can you manage to clear a whole street the way you did this? We can clear the doorways.'

Ed smirked at that. 'Just show us the road.'

* * *

A few minutes later they had a map with instructions on them, while Servil and the others (employees of his inn, as it turned out) went to retrieve shovels.

'It happened again,' Roy said quietly as they made their way to the first of the streets on their checklist.

'What?' Ed asked, absent-minded as he scanned the paper in his hand.

'The extra fire,' Roy said, and Ed paused to look back at him.

'I told you, it's not the circle –'

'What the hell else could it be, Ed?' Roy snapped, clearly irritated by the one problem he couldn't solve. 'It's not _you_.'

Ed snarled at the way he said "you", as if it was a a hateful epithet he reserved for Ed and Ed alone. 'I don't know, maybe _you_?' he growled, flinging the tone back in his face. 'Maybe you need some more control, _Roy_ , or maybe you need to stop blaming me for things that aren't my fault.'

'The same could be said of you,' Roy scoffed, but Ed noticed with glee the slight flinch of his name in Ed's voice. 'Like the fact that this whole thing is _not my fault_. When are you going to let it go?'

'When I can go home,' Ed snapped, and stopped in front of the first wide gap between buildings. He hardened the snow with a touch of his fingers, before setting an array in the firmer surface.

He started when Roy knelt beside him. 'That's a different array than before,' he said, and Ed stared at the man beside him as he realised that Roy's tone was half exasperated, half apologetic. Since when was Roy Mustang apologetic?

'I can't coat the streets with ice, can I?' Ed asked irritatedly, trying to swallow down his surprise. 'I'm just going to evaporate the water. A lot of steam, but a lot less mess.'

'Be careful,' Roy warned. 'Steam's dangerous if you don't know what you're doing.'

'Oh, shut up,' Ed snapped irritatedly, and held out his hand.

Roy looked at it, obviously confused. 'Can't I just direct it toward the array?' he asked, and Ed flushed.

'I'm worried you'll melt the circle,' Ed replied, voice sharp, and then his eyebrow rose. 'Too scared to hold hands, Roy?' Ed replied cockily.

Roy rolled his eyes, but took Ed's hand before snapping.

Ed would never admit it, but Mustang _could_ have directed the alchemy to the circle, and it would have been fine. But something in Ed had balked at that, and had shoved aside common sense and replied for him. And he greatly suspected that part of him was the same part that thrilled at the static of alchemy that flooded him before releasing it to the street a few seconds later.

It appeared to work perfectly – a spiral of flame, fierce and white-gold, evaporated the snow on touch. Then Ed realised his mistake.

He hadn't direct the steam to go anywhere.

There was a soft sort of rumble as the wall of roiling steam raced toward him; Ed knew it was hot enough to boil off his skin, much less survive. He was _so_ fucked – the steam might as well have been plasma. Maybe it _was_ plasma. That... _also_ meant he was fucked.

'Ed!'

Something tackled him, sending them both sprawling to the right, and Ed clapped his hands instinctively, transmuting a shell of ice to protect them both. His surprise met no bounds, however, when he realised his saviour was none other than Major-General Bastard.

'Roy!' he gaped, shocked.

The steam still rippling around the shell of ice, Roy sat up and smacked him across the face, hard. The sound cracked off the ground and bounced around the buildings, slicing through the steam like a knife through smoke; Ed's head snapped to the side, and he almost bit his tongue in shock.

'I _told_ you to be careful!' Roy growled, more pissed than Ed had seen him in ages. Ed pressed a hand to his stinging cheek, turning back to stare, dumbfounded, at the furious pools of black that were glaring at him. 'I _told_ you, steam's dangerous when you don't know what you're doing, and you didn't listen for the thousandth time! I know most things fly right over your head, Ed, but for God's sake, I didn't think you would be so stupid as to not put a directional in the goddamn array!'

Ed blinked at the mini-speech, infuriated and dripping with pure frustration, then scowled. 'I am _not_ short!' he said loudly.

Roy stared, then, to Ed's continued bemusement, chuckled weakly.

Not the reaction Ed had been going for, but what the hell. Roy's laughter was infectious, and before Ed knew it he was laughing too. It felt weird to laugh like this.

Roy gave him a once-over, before asking quietly, 'Are you alright?'

'A little pissed at myself, but otherwise fine,' Ed admitted grudgingly, a tone of impatience creeping back into his voice. 'Could be worse.'

'Yes,' Roy replied, his eyes dark and still tinted in anger. 'It could have been much worse.'

For a split second, Ed thought Roy was going to slap him again. Instead, he ran a gloved hand through his hair, before studying the street. 'Let's not do that again,' he said, staring at the surface. 'It's not worth it – the snow's already iced up. Just coat the bottom with ice, so that the sides are easier to break into for Servil and the others.'

Ed cursed at that, when he realised Roy was right; the street was already sparkling with ice. 'It was all for fucking nothing,' he muttered under his breath, before kneeling to scrutinise the array. He could see where he should have placed a directional, and looked up at Roy, embarrassed. 'I almost killed you for fuckin' _nothing_.'

Roy looked taken aback at that. 'What?'

'I almost killed you for fucking _nothing_ ,' Ed repeated, glaring. 'Is there some part of that sentence that doesn't make sense, or something?'

Roy glared back. 'I –'

He was cut off by the sound of a shout – Servil and the others had broken through to another building, the residents already joining them, shovels in hand.

'Whatever,' Ed sighed, waving away the awkwardly angry air with that one word. 'We need to clear the streets before we can worry about the rails, so your backup can get here.'

A part of him hated himself for his next words, but he didn't know why. 'We can clear more if we split up,' he said, clapping his hands and transmuting some snow into a disk of ice with the redesigned array etched into the glassy surface. 'You take the north, I'll take the south; meet me at the rails in two hours, so we can finish this up and get back to the original mission.' He handed Roy the disc and the corresponding half of the map, having just ripped it.

'Are you giving me orders, Ed?' Roy asked, his voice irritated. Ed smirked.

'Yes, I am. A bit irritating on the receiving end, isn't it?' He taunted, then turned and walked away, already studying his half of the map.

Half an hour later, he was glaring at the third street he'd cleared, breathing a bit too hard for his liking. Fire alchemy wasn't really his thing, and he'd forgotten how energy consuming it was; in addition, no matter what he put into it, it was always less ferocious than the flames Roy could produce, forcing him to push more for the same results.

And then, as if to add insult to injury, balancing two arrays at the same time was _hard_. It was one thing to go smoothly from one to the other, but quite another to activate them both and keep the power equal between the two, and _not_ roast yourself in the process.

'Fucking _hell_ ,' he cursed softly, before making his way to the next street.

The streets passed in a diamond-white blur, each more taxing than the last, each demanding more fire than he thought Roy had given in any of the previous streets or doorways they'd cleared.

He stood after his thirteenth street, flexing his automail and grimacing. It was starting to freeze up on him again, and he noticed for the first time that he wasn't wearing a coat. Looking down to his feet, he was at least glad to see he had remembered boots; maybe Al was onto something when he said Ed was absent-minded.

'Cold?'

He turned to see one of the employees of Servil's inn holding out a jacket. He was a tall, thin man with pale skin and blue eyes, and his hair was a fiery red – at least, what Ed could see of it under the forest-green knit hat that was tugged haphazardly over his hair. And odd symbol stood out slightly from the weave of yarn – a sort of decorative spiral.

'Thank you,' Ed said gratefully, shrugging on the jacket; immediately, a small battalion of warmth began to defend his automail port from the invading cold.

'I'm Jeremy,' the man smiled. 'Servil sent me to give you the jacket – I've been running all over town looking for you.'

'Been kinda busy,' Ed shrugged, but gave a smile anyway. He pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time with a grimace; five minutes to get to the station fifteen minutes away. Jeremy made a small noise, and he looked up, eyebrow arched quizzically.

'Do you need a ride to the station?' Jeremy offered, looked vaguely embarrassed. 'It's a four minute drive if we take the car.'

Ed gave him a grin. 'Thanks,' he said, and followed the older man to the car a short distance away. 'How long have you been working for Servil?' he asked.

'Eh, about a month and a half,' Jeremy shrugged. 'Never thought it would be this bad down here, though.'

Ed frowned at that, but said nothing; _down here_? Was Jeremy from farther north? Now that he thought about it, there was a slight edge of an accent to Jeremy's words. He ran over them in his head; there was a strange lilt to Jeremy's 'r's and 'l's, an accent he wanted to pin as Areugian even though that felt off.

'We're here,' Jeremy said abruptly, and Ed blinked as he realised not only had he gotten in the car, but had made it to the station before Roy.

'Hey, thanks,' Ed answered with a smile, hopping out of the car.

'Don't mention it,' Jeremy smiled back. 'Just get those railways open as soon as possible.' And then, with the soft purr of a well-maintained engine, Jeremy drove off. Ed frowned at that noise, too; something about it seemed incongruous with the cold.

'Glad to see you could make it, Ed.'

...Dammit, he _hadn't_ made it here before Roy. 'Got a problem?' he asked, turning to face the other man – then paused at the sight of him. He looked worn out, like he'd spent one too many hours going over paperwork back at the office. 'Shit, Roy,' Ed whistled. 'You okay?'

'Are you?' Roy challenged, looking irritated. 'I find it funny that you didn't mention how difficult it is to balance fire and ice.'

' _I_ didn't find it hard,' Ed replied, a bit of childish petulance making its way into his voice. 'The fire was the hard part – getting enough to actually do the job was a pain in the ass.' He glared at Roy. 'How many streets did you finish?'

'Eight,' was Roy's snappish answer. 'You?'

'Thirteen,' Ed replied smugly. There was a dark look in Roy's eyes, though, so he didn't push it. Which was a strange phenomena in its own right; when was the last time he had passed up a chance to bait Roy Mustang?

He had to get out of this weird phase and get back to normal, get back to the basic antagonism between himself and Roy. Anything further, he was realising, was dangerous. He wasn't sure how, he wasn't sure why, and he wasn't even sure what _further_ meant – hopefully not friends, because he wasn't sure how to go about being friends with Mustang and not kill him. But he knew, instinctively, it was the kind of dangerous that he shouldn't test.

'The trains will be able to bulldoze their way through most of the snow,' Roy was saying, and Ed realised he had lost himself in thoughts. 'At the most, we'll have to clear a half mile in either direction.'

'A half mile?' Ed repeated, gaping. 'A street was hard enough – how do you expect to pull off a half mile?'

Roy gave him a look that startled Ed – not because it was alien, but because it was familiar. After all, how many times had he seen it reflected back at him from the curve of Al's armour, a scimitar flash of teeth and determination, a slash of defiance that split his face into two? Even now, when the silver armour had melted into earth-tinged flesh and sharp, uncanny grey eyes, he could see it reflected on Al's face. Was it possible... was it possible Roy had learned that wild grin from _Ed_?

'Give me your hand, and I'll show you,' Roy said, holding out his (still ungloved) right palm.

'What are you talking about?' Ed asked, and to his self-disgust he felt his cheeks begin to burn red. And, because of the coat, he couldn't blame it on the cold. Dammit.

'What? Too scared to hold hands, Ed?' Roy simpered, and Ed growled to have his words flung back in his face. He couldn't even refute them, because that brought into question what his insistence earlier had been, and he didn't know the answer to that himself.

'No,' he snarled. 'But how about you explain yourself first?'

'I have a theory,' Roy said, his voice patient. 'But I want to test it out before I explain it.'

Ed scowled at that. 'Untested theories can get you killed,' he warned.

'So you proved so aptly earlier today,' Roy snapped back, and Ed flinched as a unexpected ripple of guilt burnt through his gut. There was a short silence, and then, to Ed's shock, Roy sighed and muttered, 'I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that.'

'You were obviously thinking it,' Ed replied, unable to help the defensive tone in his voice at bay.

'Perhaps, but I didn't need to say it,' Roy replied, teeth clenched. 'Look, there's a minimal chance anything could go wrong. Can you just give me your hand?'

Ed glared, but stepped closer before letting his palm rest upon Roy's. 'What now?' he asked tersely, damning the red that wouldn't drain from his cheeks – if anything, it seemed to be growing more intense in protest to his vehemence that it went away.

'Set the array we used the first time in the doorway at the inn,' Roy said. Ed stared.

'But that will just coat the rails in ice. It won't do any good,' Ed argued.

Roy sighed. 'Just do it, Ed.'

Scowling, Ed did as he was told, crouching to do so.

'What now, General Bastard?' he asked, trying to keep the irritation in his voice to minimum. Roy knelt beside him, looking serious.

'Activate the array when I snap,' he said, looking Ed in the eyes, 'And watch the rails.'

Ed sucked in a breath – for some reason, the air wasn't taking to his lungs as kindly as they had a moment before. 'Sure,' he said, then broke his gaze away. Suddenly, it was much easier to breathe.

'Go,' Roy said quietly, and snapped.

Ed's hand slammed down on the array in the snow, and then he flicked his eyes up to the rails.

Flame stretched farther than he had ever seen it, melting the snow into a swift rush of water that almost instantly became a swift rush of ice. Ed almost opened his mouth when he realised the difference between this time and before.

The fire did not fade as it once had, but intensified along the metal rails, and steam lost itself among the spent molecules of oxygen floating up into the sky. The ice that had set itself along the rails disappeared entirely, leaving them pristine.

But, perhaps less important than the effectiveness of the array but certainly more important to Ed, was the strange loss of much of the feeling of power that he had felt every time he had done this before with Roy. He looked at the older man, who was concentrating on his flame; at the same time, though, there was a recognisable light dancing in his eyes.

Then it wasn't just Ed who felt the power of the shared control of the arrays. There was a certain amount of teamwork in this: a partnership, an equality. That was a strange thought; he and Roy, equals? He'd always sort of seen Roy as considerably more talented.

Which, in turn, was a strange admission. Normally, Ed wouldn't dare admit any sort of inferiority, much less in relation to the bastard who ran him in circles like a dog at a show; but this was true. He knew his alchemical prowess was a mixture of inborn power, encounters with the Gate, and, frankly, intelligence. But Roy had excelled at his alchemy and became the foremost expert in his field by virtue of hard work and determination – something that Ed, in all his brilliance, could never really claim.

But this shared alchemy _was_ an equality, a product of Ed's unique design and Roy's honed control, and it was dazzling.

The transmutation faded, and Ed found himself staring at his CO with something he hated to admit was close to respect.

'Just as I thought,' Roy said, sitting back. 'It's you.'

'What?' Ed spluttered, feeling his face go red again.

'You're amplifying the flames,' Roy said, giving Ed a strange look. 'What did you think I meant?'

'I told you, it's not my damn circle!' Ed protested hotly, his blush draining away to the pale hue of anger. 'You can check it a thousand times, Roy, it doesn't change the fact that there's no amp –'

'I didn't say there was,' Roy said placidly. 'I said it was you. _You_ are amplifying my flames.'

Those five words were both the most confusing ones Ed had ever heard and the first innuendo that he had ever associated between himself and Roy that had no basis in the conversation whatsoever.

'That's impossible!' he snarled, blushing again (Gate, what was wrong with him? Was he going to spend the rest of his life as a fuckin' _tomato_?) before he jerked away. He glared ferociously, quashing down his embarrassment. 'That's impossible, and you know it, Mustang!'

The abrupt return of his last name made Roy's eyebrow rise, resulting in a more flustered Ed. 'There hasn't been much study in the field of partnered alchemy, Ed, and _you_ know it.' Roy's voice was calm, but Ed's name was a gentle rebuke. Since when was Roy _gentle_? 'It just means that I don't have to reach as far for as much flame because we're sharing the energy output of the transmutation.'

Ed was still glaring, but his brain was whirring through the possibilities. If two alchemists could share the energy output, then it sounded like they shared the Equivalent Exchange, as well. Which meant...

'Fuckin' great, now I'm stuck with _you_ ,' Ed snapped waspishly. Roy looked thoroughly surprised, until Ed explained, 'Obviously the transmutation's easier if we stick together. It'll be slower going, but we'll be able to do more.'

Roy nodded, and stood, hauling Ed up after him. 'How's your automail?' he asked in a far kinder tone than Ed was used to. Ed scowled; the last thing he needed was Roy's pity.

'It's fine,' he said stiffly, and turned his back to Roy as he took out his map again. 'First we should –'

'Major! Major General!' Someone shouted, and Ed's head snapped up to see Jeremy skid around the corner before the car screeched to a halt. 'A building collapsed on the west side, and the alchemists there are practically useless!' he explained breathlessly. 'The local military manager has requested your immediate presence –'

'Slow down, Jeremy,' Ed replied, bewildered, but froze as Jeremy plowed on to a stop.

'– And there are people trapped in the debris!'

* * *

At that moment, the entire world pivoted in Ed's mind, from the weird brand of alchemy he was trying to understand to the fact that people needed him. 'How far away?' he asked, and Jeremy winced.

'Ten minutes by foot, three or four by car. But the car...' he looked embarrassed. 'It doesn't have much gas left – I don't think it can make it...'

'Take us as far as you can,' Roy commanded, and all but pushed Ed and Jeremy into the car. 'Now.'

Jeremy rushed to oblige, and Ed gave Roy a funny look; he could have sworn he heard a distinct note of dislike in Roy's words. In the next second, however, all his suspicions fled as the car lurched forward amid a loud explosion.

'Another building must have imploded,' Jeremy said through gritted teeth. Ed felt his face blanch, even as he wondered at Jeremy's word choice – hadn't he said the first building had collapsed? Or had Ed heard wrong?

A quick glance at Roy's face showed that he wasn't the only one who had noticed the discrepancy; his face was drawn, and there was a glint of distrust in his eyes that was unsettling to Ed.

True to Jeremy's word, though, the car shuddered to a stop a few streets away from the buildings that had collapsed; Ed could hear the raging crowd from here – the desperate shouts of anxious families, the cried of children, the shrieks of people trapped. He thought he could smell the faint tang of smoke.

He and Roy shared a glance, much more passing through the quick meeting of eyes than simple soldier's camaraderie, than the normal code of subordinate and CO. To Ed, it felt a bit like the unspoken promise that had always existed between him and Al, the promise that they would watch each other's backs.

And the part of him that enjoyed the thrill of partnered alchemy told him that maybe that same promise could stand, uncontested, between him and Mustang. Just for now, yes, but uncontested nevertheless.

They reached for their door handles at the same time, neither paying attention to the colourful swears and apologies that were bubbling off Jeremy's lips.

A second explosion, far louder than any of the previous ones, rocked the car, and before the sound was over and the wailing of the frightened crowd could could begin, Ed found himself halfway down the street, sprinting as if his life depended on it.

He also found Roy at his side, keeping pace with only a little effort.

'We need to prevent any more buildings from collapsing!' He said loudly over the wind in his ears.

'You can't just transmute them, Ed!' Roy protested as they turned onto another empty street. There was a warm glow that shone between the buildings, and now Ed could practically taste the smoke in the air. 'Weaken the supports too much and you could kill someone!'

'Don't you think I kn –'

They skidded to a stop on the street once they could see the commotion, and for a second Ed was speechless for the horror.

People were running, screaming, out of the buildings, clothes and hair afire, men and women and children alike; there were moans of the dying and shrieks of the barely living as they littered the streets in make-shift cots, thick, heavy burns eating away at their flesh.

'A gas main must have ruptured,' Roy said, his voice almost a whisper, and in looking over Edward realised what was happening; the man was becoming lost in memories of Ishbal, where he had seen much the same thing – only it had happened at his own hands.

'Snap out of it, Roy!' Ed barked, and Roy jumped, startled. 'I saw this coming, or something like it – Jeremy must be in on it, he said the buildings were imploding!'

Roy's look was sharp, but at least his eyes weren't clouded by memories' thick smoke. 'You caught that?'

'Of course I caught it, you bastard!' Ed snarled. 'There has to be –' Then he saw them. 'Look! Top of the building two up from your right!'

Roy's head snapped around, and Ed stepped up to stand beside him as the man caught sight of the group of people Ed had seen. Dressed in dark clothes, each one had a bright green insignia on their back, the toxic swirls enough to make Ed dizzy – or maybe that was just the smoke. 'It's them!' he said, and he took a step forward.

Roy caught his wrist, and Ed almost turned and punched him. From the look on his face, though, he had expected that, and there was a tense wariness in the lines around his eyes when the expected punch didn't come. 'You can't go after them yet, Ed,' Roy commanded, and his voice was cold, impersonal, with a thick river of restrained anger roiling beneath. 'We need to help the people first.'

Ed gritted his teeth, but nodded; Roy was right, even if every part of him wanted to deny that and chase the bastards down. Roy looked relieved at Ed's compliance, and released him.

'You handle the fire,' Ed said tacitly, trying to hold his anger in check. 'I'll do the rest.'

'Be careful,' Roy said, and the look in his eyes was much softer than it had been a moment ago.

Ed felt confused at that – confused in a weirdly... good way, like he was off balance. He scowled to himself and shoved the feeling to the back of his mind; he could examine it more closely when he didn't have a job to do.

Still, it was hard to break the gaze, and when he tore himself away he was certain there was a look of equal confusion on Roy's face. 'Let's go,' he said, and at Roy's grunt of affirmation, he was off.

Slapping his palms together, he ran low to the ground, dragging his palms along the packed snow. A thick rope of ice wound its way around each of the buildings, steadying them and making sure no more would be able to fall; any bombs or incendiary arrays would have been set along a building's supports, but all of the weight had just been transferred to the transmuted snow.

There were shouts of surprise, both from the people on the street and the group atop the building; Ed didn't hear them clearly, as at that moment a rush of heat swooped over his bent body and whisked away the fire into the sky, where it burned itself out, no longer consuming any fuel.

Ed looked back to see Roy's face hard in concentration, each snap of his fingers carefully timed, and he scowled before turning back to the building he was running to; the bastard wasn't going to show him up now, not if he had any say in it.

He clapped again and slammed his palms to the wall as his sprinting body met it, and the collapsing building began to become steady. The other two buildings were a loss, but that was okay.

'Is anyone hurt!' he shouted into the building and the sudden quiet of the street.

'Help...!' a little girl's voice cried piteously, and a man burst out of the crowd.

'Anna!' he shouted. 'Anna, Daddy's coming –!'

Other people began to pour out of the building and the crowd, and he was unsurprised to see people weeping as they were tended to by others.

Looking around, he could see the group looking stunned. Then one turned, as if to flee.

'Oh no, you don't, you slimy bastard,' Ed growled, and clapped his hands. It was at that moment Roy caught up with him.

As his palms hit the snow, Roy's hand caught his shoulder – and suddenly, the transmutation was much larger than Ed had expected it to be.

Ice spread like mist across the ground, coating every inch of street and building; thick ribbons of ice became pathways between buildings, and more than one of the group screamed as they were snared by the lightning fast ice.

Soon, though, it was spreading much farther than Ed had imagined it would – his mind followed the transmutation as a sick sort of proof, watching as it coated buildings halfway across the city and kept going.

Roy's control over the transmutation was abrupt, and suddenly, un-cleared streets were turned to tunnels of ice tall enough for cars to pass through, doorways were free of snow, and between the roofs of buildings slender corridors were cocooned.

The transmutation, however, left them both drained, and when it ended, Ed knew he had coated the entire city in ice.

'Let us go, you alchemised _freaks_!' One of the people atop the building screeched as Ed slumped to the ground, breathing hard, and Roy fell to his knees beside him. He instinctively leaned against Roy's frame just trying to regain his breath; he felt as if he had just run a forty-K marathon without food, water, or rest beforehand.

'We – have to get up there –' Ed gasped out.

'Come on,' Roy groaned, and pulled Ed to his feet.

Roy looked like he was in better shape, so when he took most of Ed's weight when they started walking, Ed only managed a ferocious growl and a half-hearted jab in the ribs with his flesh elbow; fuck, next time he'd have to think more closely about the array he used, if Roy was helping.

Someone – Ed didn't know who, as he didn't recognise the face and didn't give too much of a damn, anyway – opened the door for them and Roy nodded his thanks before stepping inside; the door shut behind them and Roy paused.

'Are you okay?' he asked, and Ed looked up at him. There was a tightly-controlled concern in the man's eyes, and that weird feeling from before fluttered in Ed's stomach.

'I'm –' for a moment, Ed's words failed him, then he scowled; anger, it seemed, was the only way to maintain a sense of normalcy around Roy today. 'I'm fine,' he snapped.

'You reached too far,' Roy said, and there was a probing glint in his eyes that made Ed look away. 'If you had waited a moment –'

'If I had waited a moment, they would have gotten away,' Ed snapped, irritated. 'Can we talk about this when we have their stupid asses in custody?'

Roy looked irritated, as well, but nodded; Ed pushed himself away from the man, and was relieved to find that, even if he wobbled, he could walk on his own now. He made for the stairs, stumbling up them until he could walk, then walking until he could run, at which point he did so. Roy kept pace beside him, and while there was nothing Ed would have liked more than to punch that concerned look off his face, he wouldn't deny that it was comforting to have the man by his side.

Which, of course, brought to mind the eternal question: what the hell was wrong with him? He wasn't becoming Roy's... _friend_ , was he? Gate, he hoped not. That would change too much in his life – just when he was getting used to the changes he already _had_.

Roy gave him a strange look as they came to the landing at the top of the steps, but Ed ignored it; he instead reached for the door to the roof, and opened it with nary a click.

And stopped in his tracks.

To his fury, many of the group had broken free of their icy manacles, and as he stared, dumbfounded, another disappeared of the edge of the roof – and the last of the group was hacking away at the ice.

'Don't you fuckin' _dare_ _!_ ' Ed roared, diving forward, and there was a hideous crack as he tackled the man, the sound of ice shattering under too much weight.

Then he recognised the man he had tackled.

'What the hell?' he demanded, pinning the man down. 'Jeremy, what the fuck is going on!'

'I was trying to catch those bastards!' he shouted, sounding angry, but Ed's eyes flashed as he heard the lie in the words. He slammed Jeremy's head down on the ice, severely pissed.

'Don't fuckin' lie to me!' he growled, stare blazing down into Jeremy's dazed eyes. 'You're one of them, aren't you? You were standing up here, fuckin' exploding houses and killing people – what the fuck is your _problem_?' He pulled his automail fist back, fully intent on punching the truth out of the man, but Roy's hand caught his.

'Ed,' Roy said quietly, but the command in the name was evident; Ed shot him a frosty glare, but relaxed his fist.

Jeremy, meanwhile, had given up his charade and was sneering up at Ed with a sickening self-righteousness. 'Glad to see you've got your dog on a leash, you sick _freak_ ,' he simpered.

White hot rage spilled along Ed's veins, and he slapped the man with his flesh hand – the one that currently wasn't being held back by Roy. There was a sharp sound of skin on ice as Jeremy's head cracked around to the ground, slapping off and bouncing back. 'Who the _fuck_ ,' Ed rumbled, baring teeth, 'Do you think you're calling a sick freak, you murderer?' He yanked his hand away from Mustang and snatched Jeremy's collar, shaking him hard enough that the back of his skull cracked off the ice. 'There are innocent people – some of them _children_ , for fuck's sake – lying there on the road below us, and do you know what _they_ are, murderer?' Ed shook him once, extra hard for emphasis. 'They're _dead_! Dead!'

'They were traitors,' the man coughed.

'Traitors?' Ed repeated. 'To what?'

'To the power of –' Jeremy shut up, then shot him a cocky grin. 'Clever.'

'Not clever,' Ed growled darkly, and slapped him across the face again. 'Fuckin' _pissed_. Who did those kids betray?' Jeremy just smiled, his teeth starting to turn red from a tongue that had been bitten. 'Who, damn you? Who!'

'Ed!' Roy snapped behind him, but Ed didn't listen.

'Who, you son of a bitch? Who?'

'The Republic,' Jeremy whispered past his swollen tongue, looking dazed, 'of Drachma.'

* * *

A startled swear behind him, but Ed wasn't paying attention. 'You're part of the spy ring here?' He demanded. 'What's going –'

'We're not a spy-ring!' Jeremy snarled, simpering countenance lost to anger. 'We're the scouts!'

Silence reigned on the rooftop, only broken by the cries of the people below and the crackle of what little flame was left.

'The scouts?' Roy demanded after a moment. 'There's to be an invasion?'

The words struck at Ed's mind like a battering ram – oh, Gate, an invasion? Here? Now? – that he almost missed Jeremy's response.

'We will take you worthless alchemical freaks and your weak government of a military down!' Jeremy said, and began to laugh violently. 'We'll kill every sign of alchemy –'

'That's enough!'

The familiar voice of Servil startled Ed, and froze Jeremy into silence. Servil looked angrier than was physically possible, and he all but shoved Ed off Jeremy so he could pick up the smaller man by the collar of his shirt. 'You are going to be locked up,' Servil rumbled, and Ed stared from his spot on the ground. 'And when this city is safe, I will make sure you and all your friends are turned over to the military.' He looked over to Ed. 'I thank you for catching him.'

He then turned to Roy, who (to Ed's shock) looked just as shaken as Ed felt. Mustang – shaken? The world was about to end. 'I expect you'll want to follow me to make sure I'm not part of this traitorous bastard's group?' he growled.

Roy nodded, and like that, he was back to normal. 'I would very much appreciate that. If you could wait a moment?'

'Of course,' Servil said, his face a permanent scowl now. 'I'll just see about making sure this idiot's quiet for the journey.' He turned and pinned Jeremy up to the wall, and pulled his fist back.

Ed expected Roy to stop Servil – what he was doing was nowhere near legal – and was shocked when Roy immediately knelt at his side. 'Are you alright?' Roy asked in a quiet voice (not that it was necessary – the loud crack at that moment came undeniably from Servil's fist on a cheekbone).

'I think you should ask Jeremy that,' Ed replied, and when Roy offered his hand to pull him up he only hesitated a moment before placing his left palm in Roy's.

'If that's even his name,' Roy replied darkly, hauling him up.

'Look,' Ed murmured quietly back, so that Servil couldn't hear. 'There's six other places where people were frozen into place and broke free.'

'There could be more,' Roy replied, speaking quietly in turn. Ed went to gesture with his left hand, and blushed fiercely when he lifted Roy's hand as well.

'Sorry,' Ed mumbled, then went back to gesturing; there was no point in getting more flustered. 'But I doubt it. This is the first big move they've made – and from Jeremy's spiel, I don't think any of them are fond of Amestrians. They would all want to watch, the sick fucks.'

'Ed,' Roy murmured, and the younger man looked at him, ready to snarl an exasperated _what_ but was brought up short by the look of – something, he couldn't understand it – in Roy's eyes. 'Don't blame yourself. You did well.'

It was _pride_ in Roy's eyes, Ed realised, and that weird feeling surfaced again, and a blush slammed into his face before he managed to shove it back to the dark hole he had created for it in the back of his mind.

'I – thank you?' he tried, and blushed harder when Roy began to laugh (quietly, yes, but laugh all the same) at him.

'Ready?' Roy asked, turning back to Servil, who was propping Jeremy's limp form over his shoulder.

'He's good to go,' Servil nodded, and started towards the exit. When Roy stood close on their journey down, Ed didn't protest; the weariness he had thrown off to catch Jeremy had returned with a vengeance, and when they got to the bottom of the building, Ed didn't notice the ice that his boots barely had a grip on, the people being tended to by others, the startled and admiring looks he was receiving from the townsfolk. All he knew was that there was a car, and that meant seats, and he settled in, slumping against the door after he closed it.

He was surprised when Roy, once he had helped manoeuvre Jeremy into the wide trunk space just behind the back-seat, slid into the seat beside him.

The car (more of a covered truck) had a bad engine, which Servil apologised for before starting it up; indeed, it made enough nose that Ed couldn't hear Servil's words after that.

'Are you sure you're okay?' Roy asked beside him, voice muffled by the over-active engine. 'You put much more into that transmutation than I did. I only took the reins toward the end, where I shaped all the snow into ice.'

Ed glared at him, but felt instinctively that his glare was much weaker than usual. 'I'm fine,' he snapped.

'You look too pale to be fine,' Roy said, and took off one of his gloves; to Ed's shock, he pressed his wrist to Ed's forehead. 'How's your automail?'

'Will you stop treating me like a kid?' Ed snarled harshly, pushing Roy's cool wrist from his skin. 'I said I'm fine – for fuck's sake, Roy, I'm twenty now, not twelve!'

'So?' Roy asked with an arched eyebrow. 'Adults should have people to worry about them.'

'Oh, yeah?' Ed snapped, glaring harder to make up for his weariness. 'Who worries about _y_ _ou_?' As soon as the words were out, he flushed – not only were they completely inappropriate, he knew that he himself was part of the answer.

Roy's answering smirk told him that the other man knew. 'Maes, for one,' he said, and Ed winced away, turning to look out the window. 'Hawkeye, Fuery, Havoc, Breda, Falman –'

'Alright, I get it,' Ed snapped.

'– and you.' Roy smirked at Ed's look of outrage. 'Don't try hiding it, Ed.'

'Where's your proof? 'Ed demanded weakly.

'When your first thought after the steam incident was not "shit, I almost died", but "shit, I almost killed you",' Roy said, and laughed softly at the answering flush on Ed's cheeks. 'You can't hide it, Ed,' Roy teased. 'You worry about me.'

'Only because you're incapable of taking care of yourself!' Ed snapped, his blush only infuriating him further. Roy's smirk made it worse. 'Oh, shut up,' Ed snarled, turning back to his window. 'Or I'll transmute you into the world's first living ice statue.'

'Glad to see you'd leave me alive, Ed,' Roy replied, his smirk no less.

Ed opened his mouth to respond, but something started to strike at his lungs from the inside, even as the air went down his throat wrong. He coughed once, and thought that would be the end of it, but it was rapidly followed by many others, who were fighting and snarling and ripping at the lining of his oesophagus.

'Ed!' Roy exclaimed, and Ed made a feeble attempt to bat his hands away but gave it up in the attempt to win the battle his lungs were waging against the air he needed to live. 'I thought you said –'

'I'm – fine –' Ed managed through his coughs.

'The hell you are, Ed!' Roy said, sounding frantic. 'Look at my hand!'

Ed cast his eyes down, and the coughing only grew worse as he tried to suck in a breath of shock – Roy's bare hand was speckled with blood and saliva. Unmistakeably his own.

Slowly, the coughing fit died away, until Ed could breathe normally. He had kept his eyes away from Roy's the entire time, choosing instead to screw his own shut and stare at the back of his eyelids as the air he needed flooded his lungs. For the first time, he noticed Roy's hands were steady on his shoulders, and the engine was off. There was no sound up front or behind them; they were alone in the car.

Ed pushed Roy's hands away. 'I'm fine,' he repeated, wincing internally at how weak his words sounded. 'I just spent too much energy on the transmutation, is all. I just need –'

'Just need? You _idiot_!' Roy said loudly, and when Ed's eyes flicked up to his they burned with an inner fire of anger and – to Ed's shock – intense fear. 'You were just coughing blood into my hands, Ed – you need to get to a hospital –'

'I just need sleep,' Ed snapped hoarsely. 'Seriously – a few hours of deep sleep, and I'll be okay again. This has happened before, it's no –'

'It's happened before?' Roy repeated, sounding badly shocked. 'You coughed up blood before from overexerting yourself?' Ed looked way and started when Roy caught his chin and turned him back, mercilessly staring into his eyes with that fire burning through him. 'When, Ed.'

'It's –'

'When did this happen to you before?' Roy snarled.

Ed glared back, snarling in turn, 'I've come back to your office with my arm exploded and bleeding half to death, and you never did this! What the hell is different _now_ , you _bastard_?'

'Everything's diff–' Roy froze, then closed his eyes, releasing Ed. 'Just answer my damn question.'

'It doesn't matter,' Ed huffed. 'All that matters is it happened, and it'll probably happen again. Just let it go.' He reached for his door handle, half expecting Roy to pull him back and –

_And what?_ He scoffed to himself as he opened the door. _Yell at you some more?_ He practically flung himself from the car and staggered over to the building they were parked in front of, sliding only slightly on the ice.

Roy was quickly at his side, but Ed turned his head; his glare was so ferocious Roy took a step back, surprised. 'Fuckin' touch me, and you're a dead man, Mustang,' Ed growled, and stood as straight as he could, walking into the building.

Roy still hovered, but Ed could deal with that; he'd been dealing with Al's hovering since he was twelve, if not before that, so he could deal with Mustang's.

_Come on_ , he thought, his mind-voice hard as he forced himself to sit normally in one of the two seats offered him by Servil. They had reached the outside of the cell Jeremy had been unceremoniously dumped in, and every movement (as little as he'd like to admit it) hurt. _Just make it through this shit, and the sooner you can get home and away from all this weirdness –_

He looked over at Mustang, who was speaking to Servil in quick, low tones. His eyes, however, were trained on Ed, even when the younger man scowled at him.

_I don't understand it_ , Ed admitted angrily to himself. _Why is it different now? Why can't it just go –_

He cut that thought off with no small amount of efficiency. _You can't go back, dumb ass,_ he chided himself. _You can only go forward._

_To what?_ He asked himself, half an ear on Roy and Servil's conversation – something about recent suspicious activity and green graffiti. _What can I possibly go forward to? Roy's not my friend, and I highly doubt he ever could be._

_So what has the past day been?_ He asked himself, chancing another glance at Roy, who was still watching him, as if concerned that Ed would keel over again. _If_ _he hasn't been my friend, what has he been?_

Ed refused to let his weariness slow him down, instead choosing to abandon any attempts to follow the conversation and focus on the question posed. He had taken care of Ed when his automail had frozen up on him the night before – he had made sure the first thing done when they got to the little room was getting Ed as close to a heat source as possible. He had saved Ed from potential – _fuck that,_ Ed snorted in his head, _certain_ – death when he fucked up with the modified array. He had taken control of the transmutation when Ed could not do it alone, and had held him steady while he tried to hack up a lung.

And the things he said and the way he said it – the first time he had said Edward, and how that sounded wrong, and when he had said Ed and that sounded so _right_ – the way he had frozen when Ed had said his name –

Ed resisted the urge to growl and fist at his hair. It made no sense! He just wanted to know why today everything was changing, and why Roy kept _looking_ at him like that, like he was some kind of precious thing that needed caring for –

Ed froze mid-thought, then replayed it. A precious thing? Him? But... that would have to mean...

Ed almost snapped his head up to stare Roy in the eyes, but resisted – barely. Was Roy... in love with him?

_No, that's retarded,_ Ed huffed. _In love? That's too much. Maybe he's just attracted, or something? That makes more sense. Love is just..._

_Too much to deal with,_ his head supplied.

Then, the more pressing problem was... _Am I in – attracted to him?_

This time, when Ed snuck a glance, Roy's attention was fixated on Servil. It wasn't like Roy was unattractive. His tall, broad-shouldered frame (more often than not hidden by his uniform) belied a sort of grace that Ed was unfamiliar with – it came with self-confidence, he supposed. _Or arrogance_ , he scoffed weakly, but it was a quickly aborted effort when Ed returned his attention to the man before him.

Roy's skin was pale and unblemished, his eyes dark and piercing; not blue, not brown, but pure, uncompromised black. His hair showed blue highlights in the right light, and fell in wisps around his face, and Ed would have assumed he had styled it that way if he hadn't known that neither of them had any time to get ready this morning.

If Ed was honest, in fact, Roy had the kind of looks that stopped people in the street. So he was far from unattractive.

Ed looked down at his hands, startled to feel a slight heat on his cheeks. And, if he was honest – everything was safer when hypothetical, he reasoned – Roy was smart. Driven. Fascinating; he had admitted as much earlier when they were clearing the rails.

And with the way he was acting today... well, Ed supposed it wouldn't be too far a stretch to say he was attracted to Roy.

Which, of course, only raised the temperature of his skin further.

'Ed?' Ed gasped and jumped back in his chair, startled to see Roy kneeling in front of him, looking worried. 'You're flushed.' Roy's wrist was on his forehead again, and the other man frowned. 'And your temperature is up.'

'Sounds like he overdid it,' Servil said, standing as well. 'He should get back to the inn and get some rest. He did, after all, clear the entire city in one go. Everyone's free and getting medical care as needed – including the military manager, who was in one of the buildings exploded.' He smiled. 'You did well – far better than I thought.'

Ed started focussing on a part of the previous sentence, and turned to Servil. 'He was? The military manager?' He asked, then plowed on before he could respond. 'Would they have known that?'

'I don't doubt it,' Servil answered slowly.

'Then it stands to reason –'

'That they would know that you're the other person in charge,' Roy finished, having followed Ed's line of thought to its inevitable conclusion.

Ed flashed him a grateful smile before he could restrain himself, and settled with looking away from Roy's surprised face as quickly as possible. 'And, unfortunately,' Ed added, 'I can't guarantee that your inn will still be standing.'

There was a sharp cough from the jail cell, and all turned to see Jeremy clinging to the bars, looking perfectly calm – a stark juxtaposition from the bruises and cuts and dried blood that covered his face.

'Like we would leave that rat's nest alone,' the man scoffed.

'Why are you speaking?' Ed snarled. 'Shouldn't you be silent – or is treason not a big enough threat to keep you quiet anymore?' Roy laid a hand on his shoulder, and Ed fell silent at the warmth in the touch.

He looked back at Roy, who was aiming a narrow-eyed glance at Jeremy. 'It won't matter,' Roy said, and his voice was deadly in its ice-laced tones. 'As soon as Maes sends backup, you're going to be sent to Central and stuck in front of a firing wall.' His glare lowered the temperature slightly, and Ed realised that this was the opposite of the anger Ed had felt this morning, under the steam – where there had once been fire was only the sharp, bitter tang of snow. 'You'll be lucky to get a trial. After, of course, you're interrogated.' Roy laughed, and it sounded like brittle ice – sharp and condescending.. Jeremy gnashed his teeth. 'I almost pity you.'

In the next instant, he turned and steered Ed out of the room, leaving Servil to quickly frisk the man and meet them up at the car.

'If the inn is still standing,' he said, opening the door to the outside with one hand and leaving the other firmly on Ed's shoulder, 'You're going to sleep. We need you at full strength to catch the rest of them.'

'Right,' Ed agreed faintly, still caught up in his revelation. Roy shot him a concerned look, but it could only last a moment, as Ed noticed the group of people waiting for them.

He tensed, unable to see clearly in the brightness of outside; but then a faintly familiar voice asked, 'Is Servil in there?'

'Marina?' Servil asked, coming behind them. 'What's wrong?'

'I'm so sorry, Servil,' she said quietly. 'They got to the inn before anyone noticed, and they've disappeared...'

Ed swore at that; he'd expected it, but his lack of ability to do anything about it for the time being drove him crazy.. 'Is anything salvageable?' He asked, taking care to keep his voice as calm as he could against the anger in his core.

'We managed to retrieve your things from the wreckage,' Marina nodded. 'Thankfully, you two were the only guests this time of year.'

'Thankfully,' Ed agreed, actually meaning it. 'But you?'

She gave him a strange look. 'Me?'

'You and Servil,' Ed clarified, looking back at the equally confused man, who walked over to stand beside his wife. 'Is the inn salvageable, or burnt to bits?'

Roy started beside him, then turned to him, the fire of his anger reined in and taut. 'No, Ed,' he said commandingly, his eyes boring into Ed's defiant own. 'You were coughing up blood barely twenty minutes ago. You don't have the energy.'

'Then help me!' Ed replied, clenching his teeth to not snarl when Roy shook his head _no_.

'He'll transmute the building once he's had rest,' Roy said, looking at Marina and Servil, their stunned faces all the answer Ed needed. 'But he's expended too much energy today, from the clearing of the streets to the large transmutation he did to the entire city –'

Ed blinked at that, and looked at Roy sharply; why was he concealing his part in the transmutation? He didn't honestly think that no one had seen him collapse at Ed's side right after, did he? A piece of the prior conversation floated up to his mind in rebuttal:

_He did, after all, clear the city in one go..._

Perhaps everyone thought that he _had_ done it himself.

'– and desperately needs to sleep and eat. He's not up to it yet.' Roy looked at him, and in his eyes was a sharp glint of warning – say nothing.

'I –' Ed started to protest, and the glint sharpened further. 'Oh, whatever,' Ed huffed, crossing his arms.

'A family's offered to let you stay the night,' Marina said, her eyes sparkling with hope. 'They say you saved their granddaughter Anna, and as soon as they heard about the inn, they offered their spare bedroom.'

Ed smiled at that, even as he felt Roy's frisson of surprise beside him; people were incredibly giving when it came to thanking others. 'Tell them we'd be very grateful,' he said, and his smile grew warmer. 'I'll fix the inn as soon as I can.'

He felt Roy's stare in the heat on his cheeks, but he refused to look back at the man. Whether this was out of pure discomfort or a fear of what he'd find once he looked, Ed didn't know.

'Should you go to the hospital?' Marina asked worriedly. 'If you're as tired as Major General Mustang says...'

'I just need to sleep, I promise,' he said, ignoring Roy's faint disapproving mutter of 'Just need...' 'Can we go?'

'Of course,' new voice piped up from behind Marina, who stepped side to show Ed the shortest woman he had ever seen – and he had grown up with Granny Pinako. She was minute to every last detail, and with her white hair pulled back in a long ponytail; she also appeared to be ancient. Beside her stood a man only slightly taller, just as old but almost sprightly in his energy. 'We live down the street.'

Ed smiled his thanks and stepped on Roy's foot when he sense the man was about to protest and push away the offer.

'We're very grateful for your hospitality,' Roy said as pleasantly as he could trying not to wince as he stepped forward on his sore foot. The woman smiled back.

'It's no trouble at all!' she said, and she turned to her husband. 'We can't thank you two enough. When we think of what could have happened to Anna...' her smile grew pained for a second, but in another it was bright and happy. 'She's safe – didn't even get a scratch.'

'I'm glad,' Ed smiled in relief; he had a vague memory of a little girl calling out for help and a man breaking away from the crowd, calling out to her. He walked up to stand beside Roy in front of the two, and the woman gave him a sharp, piercing look. It sent a chill through him that he greatly suspected had nothing to do with the ice under his feet.

'You two are close, aren't you?' She asked, and Ed looked at Roy in surprise; there was a faint edge in Roy's eyes – or, rather, in the light reflected in them – but otherwise he looked as confused as Ed felt. 'Aren't you?'

Ed looked away at the repeated question, back into the woman's oddly triumphant stare. 'I guess,' he shrugged, and when Roy's gaze became a lance of fire into his skull, he chose to ignore it.

The woman smiled. 'Good,' she said lightly, and the weird look of triumph he had seen disappeared. 'You strike me as a young man who forgets he needs people close to him,' she explained, then looked at Roy. 'Both of you do. Keep each other close, then – perhaps you don't need many people, but you need someone to rest against when you're tired.' Her smile became brilliant again. 'Speaking of tired,' she said, clapping her hands, 'Let's get you to bed.'

'Ignore that,' the man said lightly, smiling. 'She's constantly trying to make people see her world-view.'

The woman swatted him. 'Quit making them see yours, you old pessimist!' She scolded. 'Come on, Jacques, you have tea on the kettle.'

'Yes, dear,' Jacques said placidly, and started to walk down the road. Roy and the woman followed, and Ed was about to do the same when Marina caught his arm.

'Will you really be able to save the inn?' She asked, eyes sparkling. Ed nodded with a smile.

'I've done similar things before,' he shrugged. 'I'll come by tomorrow, alright?'

'Oh, no,' Marina said, looking humbled. 'You won't be at full strength then. Sleep in, and you come see us when you can?' Ed nodded. 'And listen to old Sonja – she knows what she's talking about, most of the time. Just don't listen to her when she starts talking about different worlds – pah! The old woman's listened to too many fairy-tales.'

Ed smiled. 'I'll do so,' he promised, and Marina let him go.

'Ed?'

He turned to see Roy waiting for him, looking at him with that edge that made his stomach do the weird thing again. He blushed at that, but ducked his head in a nod to hide it. 'Coming,' he said, and walked over. Roy led him down the street, where Sonja and Jacques waited for both of them, and all four of them walked to a small house at the end of the street. The ice made that proposition slightly more difficult, but all four managed.

When Ed stepped inside, he felt the atmosphere wash over him in a soft wave of comfort; this had clearly been their home for many years, and it was clearly well loved. He was shown to a small bedroom with a bed covered in soft comforters by Jacques, and when the door closed behind him he collapsed on the bed, boots and all.

In the next room, he could hear the others sitting down and talking; he couldn't hear their words, but Jacques mellow tenor, Sonja's soft alto, and Roy's deep baritone lulled him. After a moment, Ed could only hear Roy's murmurs, and he finally felt his eyes fall shut, too heavy to stay open.

And so he fell asleep.

* * *

It was very dark, now.

Ed sat up in the darkness, the shadows sliding along his skin like warmed silk, and a rustle to his right told him he wasn't alone in the room – or the bed.

He tensed, readying his hands to transmute his arm, when he heard Roy say softly, 'It's alright, it's just me.'

Ed relaxed, then tensed again. 'What the hell are you doing here?' he demanded in a hoarse whisper.

A glimmer showed where Roy's eyes would be, and Ed swallowed noiselessly when he realised that the man was much closer than he had previously thought. 'Jacques and Sonja only have the one guest room. I apologise for the close quarters, but it's what was available..'

There was a rough sound to his voice, nearly masked by his carefully formal tone, and it set Ed's teeth on edge.

'What's wrong?' he asked, and shifted to face the direction he assumed Roy was in; his knees brushed Roy's, and he realised that Roy had been facing him. 'Roy?' Ed pressed when a few moments passed in silence.

'There was a few more explosions,' Roy said tonelessly, and Ed flinched. 'Not as bad as the earlier ones, but there were a few deaths. One of the buildings demolished was the jail.'

'Fuck,' Ed said, letting his head fall forward. His hair, loose, brushed over Roy's lap in the darkness. 'That means our only lead is dead, doesn't it?'

'Unfortunately, yes,' Roy said, and his words brushed over the back of Ed's neck in a warm breath of air that made Ed shiver. 'Servil retrieved him from the wreckage, but he was already dead. His skull was crushed by a falling wall.'

'Hell of a way to go,' Ed thought aloud, and Roy laughed, softly. Ed jerked his head up at that, staring intently where the glimmer had come from, and when Roy's eyes glimmered again, Ed already knew that they were much closer than was safe – Roy's breath was skating along his skin, sending thrills of warmth all over.

'Are you feeling better?' Roy asked softly, and Ed realised he felt more relaxed when Roy dropped that formality.

'Much,' Ed replied, and he smiled. 'I told you, all I needed was sleep.'

He gasped when Roy's hand came up to his forehead, checking for a high temperature. 'I still think you should go to the hospital in the morning.'

'I told you, I'm fine!' Ed protested.

'I can't trust your word on that,' Roy argued back. 'What's fine to you is practically the brink of death to everyone else.'

'And what would you care? 'Ed snapped back without thinking. 'I'm fine, stop treating me like a child!'

'I would if you would stop acting like one!' Roy ground out, and Ed could almost feel the glare through the darkness. 'Even you need someone to take care of you once in a while!'

'And why should it be _you_?' Ed snarled, pulling away from Roy's hand. 'Why _you_?'

'Because I can't help it!' Roy snapped, and then Ed felt him freeze – a physical chill as he fell absolutely still. Ed couldn't even hear him breathe, though his own startled, noisy breathing made up for Roy's silence.

Ed leaned forward again, his knees pressing against Roy's. He sucked in a breath, and he felt Roy's answering one. 'I'm sorry,' he said in short, clipped syllables, and Roy's knees jerked away in surprise. 'I shouldn't –' Ed took another deep breath and soldiered on. 'I shouldn't have said that.'

'Are you actually...' here Roy paused, and Ed heard him swallow, as if his throat had gone dry. 'Are you actually _apologising_ to me?'

'Don't get used to it,' Ed said, blushing and suddenly grateful for the darkness. 'It won't happen often.' He made to turn away.

Roy's hand caught his right shoulder, and Ed sucked in a startled breath when the heat of his hand – ungloved and soft – brushed against the skin just outside the automail port.

He pushed Ed back towards him with minimal resistance, and Ed took in a sharp breath when Roy's hand traced a shaky path from his shoulder to his chin, where it gripped him lightly. Ed fought to control his breathing – Roy wasn't going to _kiss_ him, was he? He hoped not – he didn't know how he would react.

To his intense relief, the grip softened and slid away. 'Thank you,' Roy said quietly.

His breath slipped along Ed's skin again, and Ed wondered what would have happened if Roy _had_ kissed him. Here, facing Roy and the warmth he practically radiated, the heat cradling him in the darkness, he thought that maybe – just maybe – he wouldn't have pushed him away.

The thought made his breath quicken and his body lean forward of its own accord, and he heard Roy do the same.

He told himself to stop, but he was hovering here, his mouth uncomfortably close to Roy's and it would be _so_ easy to just lean a bit further and put them together –

The entire house shuddered violently and pitched Ed backwards, shouting in surprise, and then biting back a moan of longing when Roy was tossed on top of him, between his splayed legs and crushing their hips together.

Ed hadn't even _known_ he'd been turned on, so subtle had the sensation been, but there was nothing subtle about _this_. The pressure was perfect, and he heard a low groan in Roy's throat as Ed's hips arched up unconsciously against the matching heavy weight in Roy's pants.

'Oh, _God_ ,' Roy breathed, his voice sparking along Ed's skin. Another sharp tremor brought Ed's mind back to the moment, even as Roy reached down to his shoulders –

'Not now, bastard!' Ed warned, and Roy froze mid-movement. Ed sucked in a breath as another tremble moved Roy's body against his. 'Look, can we talk about this later?' he asked desperately. 'Believe you me, I would like nothing better than to sit here and – _ah_!' Each shudder was more violent than the last and rocked Roy more firmly against him. He bit his lip and fought for control. 'But we can't,' he ground out. 'There's something going on –'

'I know,' Roy groaned softly, and levered himself up, away from Ed's body; Ed bit back a small whimper of loss. 'That doesn't mean I have to like it.'

Ed sat up once he was reasonably certain Roy was out of the way. The silence was slightly awkward, and Ed fidgeted as he turned away and slipped off the bed. 'Look, bastard,' he said quickly, and he heard Roy pause across the bed. 'We _will_ come back and discuss this, alright? We will – it's not something we can leave hanging.'

Roy opened the door to the hall, which was aglow with the light from the candles set in sconces on the wall. 'You mean that?' he asked, voice soft.

Another tremor racked the house, and Ed scowled. 'Yes, I mean it!' he snapped harshly. Stepping forward, he shoved Roy against the wall and kissed him harshly, hurting his own mouth in the process.

He pulled away, dancing out of Roy's reach. Roy gave him a glare, which he reciprocated, twice as fiercely. 'Don't fuck this up,' he warned, and there was a flash in Roy's eyes – that promise was there again, glinting near the surface.

'Only if you don't,' he said.

They turned and left the house, stepping in the harried strides of soldiers under duress, to find Sonja and Jacques already standing outside. Sonja was furious, shouting amid the clamour of the other people on the street, all of whom were pointing and staring at the sky amid their murmured words of fear. Ed shivered; it was cold again, and he wondered where his coat was. He would be useless in a half hour if he didn't find some form of warmth.

'Those bastards are going to bring down the entire city!' Sonja was shouting ferociously, shaking her fist. 'They're almost to the hospital –'

_Hospital?_ Ed thought blankly, before it hit him. The hospital – where anyone who had been hurt in the prior explosions was recuperating. Some of those people – hell, most of them – wouldn't survive a second shot. And shock would kill the rest.

* * *

Ed took off running, booted feet barely managing to keep a grip on the ice-shod streets, leaving Roy behind for a second before the older man caught up. Nothing would stop Ed now – there were people who needed him just a few streets away –

So when Roy turned in the opposite direction of the fire, looking fully intent on turning tail and running, Ed exploded.

'The fuck are you _doing_?' he demanded, catching Roy's arm mid-stride and yanking him painfully to a stop. 'The explosions are that way, dumb ass, or can you not recognise your own goddamn namesake?' He was only thankful that they had already turned a corner and the current street was utterly deserted.

'Do you really think the spies would be in the thick of it?' Roy snapped back, eyes flicking darkly over the road as if he expected them to spring from the shadows. 'For God's sake, Ed, there are two of us – you go there, I'll take care of the spy ring!'

'You really think you can take on all those explosion-happy idiots?' Ed snarled. ' And what about earlier – the people first! Fuck, Roy, that's walking into a death-trap and even I know it!'

'You would go rushing in anyway,' Roy pointed out, voice low and sharp, each syllable puncturing Ed's skin like so many poison-tipped darts. 'If push comes to shove, I can protect myself as well you can – if not better. I'm not as rash.' He took a deep breath. 'And if you help the people, we can get it done faster.'

Ed glared. 'What the fuck ever,' he snapped. 'When you're done playing the crafty and sneaky General Bastard I know you're not, you come and find me. I'll be doing the actual work.'

He almost managed to turn before Roy reached out for him, and while he wanted to rip away from him and dash off to the sight of the explosions, something in Roy's touch made him pause, letting himself be tugged to Roy and kissed.

There was nothing sweet about this kiss – Ed suspected their kisses (if this half-born, fantastically strange attraction persisted) would never be sweet, and that they might only be capable of hurting one another. But it _was_ desperate and hands-down the best kiss Ed had ever had. When Roy's tongue invaded his mouth, he moaned and pressed closer, unable to control his own body. His hands gripped the back of Roy's shirt, and his hips arched as the temporarily banked desire flared to life again.

Roy broke away with a strangled sigh when Ed ground their hips together. 'Just in case it all goes to hell,' he panted, and Ed suddenly understood.

At least this way, Roy would know that it hadn't been some last-minute fluke in a dark room; Ed had genuinely wanted him in return, had meant every meeting of teeth and lips and tongue and hips.

'It won't,' Ed snarled fiercely, and for a moment his grip tightened in the fabric of Roy's shirt, his nails digging into Roy's skin. 'It's not allowed to. You can't leave me hanging like this.'

'Is that an invitation?' Roy asked amusedly, but Ed could see a glimmer of hope. He smiled sharply.

'If only because you need to fix _this_ ,' Ed said, and the word _this_ was accentuated with a sharp grind of his hips, enough to make Ed whimper and Roy outright groan with longing. Ed stepped away quickly, and his body was actually _pained_ without Roy pressing close. And his automail, oddly enough, suddenly felt very cold.

'It's first on my list of things to do once I have some free time,' Roy panted, and Ed nodded before turning to run.

_What else could I do_? He thought as he sprinted away, feet slipping on the ice every couple of steps, and heard Roy's footsteps receding in the opposite direction. _If I had stood there, I would have gone with him, or he would have come with me. And fuck it all, the bastard's right – there's two of us, we can split up_.

It still felt intrinsically _wrong_ , somehow, to split up now of all times. Ed snapped and snarled at himself as he neared the site of the explosions, but no matter his defence ( _It had to be done – we'd be more effective apart – it's just_ emotions _dipshit, don't let them get in the way –_ ) he couldn't dispel the sense that, for all his words, he was doing the wrong thing.

His eyes refocussed on the world as another rumble almost tripped him, rippling the ground as if it was water.

Ed's eyes widened, and he clapped his hands before pressing them to the ground. After a few seconds of judging the electric current just under the ice, he pulled away with a swear.

'The fuckin' scouts are _alchemists_!' he swore to himself. He clapped again and and sank to his knees, cutting off the alchemical current with his own.

_If I'm careful..._ he thought, scowling in concentration. He twisted the alchemical current under his hands with his mind, tugging experimentally; just as he'd thought, the current was from the direction Roy had run in.

_Here's a lovely surprise for him_ , he thought amusedly and stretched the current before snapping it back like a rubber band. When the current reached them, the alchemists would liquefy, such was the force of the snap. Something in Ed's stomach turned at that – Gate, he was a killer _all over again_ – but now there was a louder voice inside him, unmistakeably his own but stronger, surer.

_But Roy's safe. That's what matters._

Was he really willing to _kill_ for Roy? The thought weighed heavily on his mind as he released his own alchemical current. It raced along the ground and defused any more arrays that could explode, leaving the section of the city that was being attacked a disengaged minefield, littered with duds.

_Yes, if it means he's safe_ , the voice snapped back, and Ed felt his heart agreeing. But his mind hung back from this strange trichotomy – soul, mind, and heart were separate pieces of himself, and each was warring with the other.

_But death is too much_! His mind argued.

In unison, his heart and soul replied fiercely, _They would kill him first! Would you rather see someone you loved die?_

At that, there was a jarring bump as the entirety of Ed joined together again, leaving him in a strange silence, punctuated only by the crackle of flames.

Clapping his hands and setting them to the ground absent-mindedly, he sent the ice to devour the flames, and the extinguishing left him in a silent darkness.

_I'm..._ he gulped. _I'm in love with him?_

And then, as if his entire being was exasperated with him, a shout rang up in his mind.

_YES_!

He pressed his hand over his mouth, as if trying to keep the shout within and not without. _I'm in love with him_ , he wondered, staring blankly as people began to crawl out of the ruined buildings and others surged past him, already helping the hurt and dragging out the dead. _I'm really… I really fell in love with him. With Mustang. With Roy?_

_Yes, you dumb ass_! He railed at himself. _Now, are you going to stand here, staring off into_ _space when he's in danger, or are you going to go help him?_

A warm hand clasped his shoulder, massive and coarse, and he turned to see Servil looking at him concernedly. 'Are you alright?' the older man asked. 'Maybe you should go to the hospital – the explosions didn't make it there.'

'I...' Ed managed, stepping out of Servil's reach. 'I have to go.'

And then, sliding on the ice all the way, he took off back in the direction he had come.

Running on ice was a tricky business, but after a moment of nearly falling on his face, he mastered the art of dodging worried onlookers; soon, he'd mastered it altogether, using his momentum to skate around corners.

At about his third corner, he saw a flicker of red in the distance – unmistakeably Roy's alchemy. He sped up.

Streets flickered past like lightning, and people – all of whom were dashing in the opposite direction – were gone almost before he had time to recognise that they had been there. They didn't matter, anyway. He had saved the people who needed it, now he needed to save Roy.

There was nothing – _nothing_ , his mind hissed fervently – that mattered more at that moment.

When he stumbled into the clearing, it was by chance. He thought he had taken a right when he should have taken a left, and was about to turn when he saw a flicker of red through an alley to his left.

Without thinking, he dashed forward, clapping as he went and transmuting his automail in a burst of blue light. If not for that light, he wouldn't have seen the scout waiting for him, gun poised; he clapped his hands again and slammed his left palm to the wall, crushing the man's wrist in a grip of unforgiving stone. He ignored the agonised cry, darting past him into the clearing.

There was a pool of blood, perfectly round – alchemy, he could tell by the faint remains of chalk just outside of it. The blood was already beginning to freeze; he suspected it was the liquefied alchemists, and his stomach gave such a violent turn that he almost threw up.

_Focus_ , he spat, _focus! Where's Roy_? He looked around, but the other man was nowhere to be seen. Only a slender woman, gasping her last, lay a few feet away.

His stomach wrenched again, but he forced himself to her side, keeping his distance as she lashed out feebly at him. 'Where is Mustang?' he demanded, in a low voice.

'Leave me to die,' she rasped, glaring heavily. 'Go, now. Keep your filthy alchemy away from me.'

'You fuckers were using alchemy to kill innocents, and you call _me_ filthy?' he barked, then bit back the rest of his tirade. 'Where is Major General Roy Mustang?'

The woman had no more words left to give, but she _did_ have an impressive snarl as she pointed towards the sky. Then she slumped, and when Ed checked, she was cold.

He looked away from the dead woman, scanning the sky for the spark and bite of Roy's alchemy. After a moment, he spotted it – high above the roof tops, arching and fending off an answering spark of green light.

He was up and clapping before he had a clear plan of action, darting over to a building and slamming his palms to the rough wall. A ladder appeared, soaring up to the top of the building, and he climbed it as quickly as he could. To his dismay, his automail was starting to slow, freezing up. He didn't dare transmute it, and he gritted his teeth; he had so little time, and he couldn't abandon Roy, not now.

He launched himself onto the roof and looked around; it was an alien landscape here, jarring and mismatched levels of flatness, some much higher than their neighbours, and frighteningly deep caverns between each plain. But three buildings away, two dark shapes darted about, and green and red light stabbed and parried.

Ed took off running, but skittered to a stop; no matter _how_ bad-ass he thought himself, he couldn't leap twenty feet between buildings.

He scanned about; if he transmuted the ice, the light would alert Roy's opponent that help was on the way for Roy, and the bastard would disappear. Ed couldn't allow that, there had to be another way –

Then he saw it.

A passage of ice, suspended between the buildings; if he remembered correctly, Roy had alchemised them that way when Ed had performed the original transmutation.

Ed dashed through it, wincing when it creaked ominously beneath his left foot; apparently it didn't like automail. But soon he was on the other side and looking for the next one.

It was a disorienting web of ice passages, and the fact that Roy and the other, unnamed person kept moving made it no less confusing. Ed would come upon a rooftop they had been on only to find scorch marks and traces of green acid eating through the stone. He kept running anyway – there had to be a time when he would get close enough –

He emerged from another of the passages when Roy and the other – a man, Ed realised – came through another. The man didn't notice him, and neither did Roy, they were too busy with trying to kill one another, the whip-flash of green and red dazzling and disconcerting.

Roy fended off another stab of green alchemy and happened to look over, and his mouth fell open at the sight of Ed.

Ed clapped his hands when he saw that the man had noticed, sinking to his knees and transmuting the stone under the man into a massive hand. The roof groaned as it became thinner, but it held their weight.

'Ed –' Roy said, looking shocked.

'Move your ass, bastard!' Ed roared, already leaping for him and knocking him out of the way of the next spray of green light; the stone hand had left one of the alchemist's free, leaving him fully capable of transmutation.

The acid ate through the thinned floor, and that was enough; the roof collapsed to the floor beneath them, sinking with an alarming groan.

The sensation of falling made Ed cry out, Roy gasping above him, and Ed instinctively curled closer, shielding the top of Roy's body from the debris. In turn, Roy's body cushioned the fall, though from Roy's groan, he could guess who had gotten the better job.

Ed sat up instantly and transmuted the immediate debris, including the stone hand, into a cage, with the man's hands embedded, motionless, into the floor of the structure. The man snapped and snarled, but Ed ignored him.

'Are you alright?' he demanded, scrambling away from Roy. 'He didn't –'

'No,' Roy said, and his voice was quiet, reassuring. 'He didn't get me.' He looked at Ed in wonder. 'How did you find me?'

'The red and green light was pretty conspicuous,' Ed shrugged self-consciously. He turned away, red-faced, to look at the captured man.

They rested in the ruined remains of a top-floor apartment, and Ed clapped his hands idly, intent on restoring the roof and other damage.

Roy's hand settled atop his as he set his left palm on the floor, and suddenly the transmutation was much easier, much softer, than he had thought it would be. A sense of energy left him and flowed into Roy, and then flowed back; he realised that their energy levels were evening out, so they both shared the exhaustion. Was that part of the transmutation, he wondered, of restoring damage? Did the circle consider the exhaustion damage, and was fixing it? Or was it the shared alchemy?

Maybe it didn't matter, he decided as the transmutation ended and he again became aware of Roy's hand, warm and soft, on his. Ed glanced at him, then away; there was no time for his stupid emotions. He had a scout to interrogate.

He pulled away reluctantly and looked up at the scout, who was eyeing him mutinously. 'How many of you are left?' he asked.

'Me,' the man replied in a snap-snarl of hatred. 'Something went wrong with the circle we were using and the people where were transmuting were liquefied.'

'Yeah, you can blame me for that,' Ed said back airily, and sat back, ignoring Roy's sudden tenseness beside him. 'So it's just you, then? I can work with that.' He shot the man a cocky grin. 'When was the invasion scheduled?'

'Like I'd tell you –'

Ed clapped his hands and set them nonchalantly on the floor, and the man cried out as the stone around his hands tightened painfully. 'Keep it up,' Ed said darkly. 'I've got until the military shows up. This could take _days_.'

The man's face blanched. 'As soon as we had our report back,' he stuttered out. 'Only then. If I had reported, invaders would be here in two, three days, tops.'

'And if you don't?'

'They wouldn't deploy,' the man said. 'Not without more intel.'

'Why Sobren?' Ed mused. 'There are other, larger cities only slightly to the south. Why Sobren?'

At that, the man grinned. 'We don't want your southern territories,' he said, sounding pleased with himself. 'They were never Drachma's. But most of the north of Amestris was once Drachman territory, and we want it back.'

Ed scoffed at that. 'It hasn't been Drachman territory since before Amestris was created,' he drawled, and he poised his hands as if about to clap. 'How about you tell me the real reason? And while you're at it, tell me why the alchemists of Drachma _hate_ alchemy.'

The man grinned creepily, and Roy's hand settled on Ed's shoulder. 'Same thing,' he said softly. 'We despise alchemy because it's a symbol of Amestris. If we take back what's ours, we no longer have to hate it.'

Ed shook his head. He almost pitied this man. He stood, and Roy followed. Clapping his hands, with Roy's touch as guidance, he transmuted the cage away. Then, before the man knew what was going on, Ed transmuted the dusty carpet under his feet into winding roped that trussed the man neatly, without warning.

Ed picked him up, grunting under the weight, and gestured toward the door with his chin. ' _This_ fucker is getting put in front of a firing wall,' he explained to a rather bemused looking Roy. 'Lead the way out of here.'

Roy did so, opening the door and helping Ed navigate the stairs. When they were four flights down, they met a nervous looking Jacques, who relaxed upon seeing them.

'We've been looking for you,' Jacques sighed, eyeing the man with distaste before turning and calling, 'I found them.'

Almost immediately, Sonja, Servil and Marina appeared, looking immensely relieved. Marina and Jacques began to look over both Roy and Ed when Servil took the man from Ed's shoulder; before long, however, they admitted there were only superficial injuries and stepped away.

'Let's get you two back to the house,' Sonja said, chivvying the two men before her. 'You two need to sleep.'

'But I –' Ed protested, but Roy cut him off.

'You're going to go to sleep, Ed,' he said darkly. Ed glared at him, but from the hardness in Roy's eyes, he could tell this was one battle he would _not_ win. 'The buildings will still be there in the morning, as will the inn. You can try and kill yourself tomorrow, but I've seen enough of it for one night.'

Soon they were out of the building, and Servil was dumping the man into the same trunk space that had held Jeremy earlier that day.

'The military is less than an hour away,' Servil said, looking at them as he shut the trunk. 'Just got word from one of the people I left to man the telephone lines. Don't know how they survived the storm, but there you go.' Servil shrugged. 'We sent them word of what has been happening, and they said they're bringing supplies and troops to defend the border.' He scowled. 'It looks like we're on the starting end of what might be a very bloody war.'

Ed nodded, looking hard through the glass at the man's head. 'It's going to be a war, alright, but if the military doesn't fuck up too badly, it should be less bloody than you think.'

'I certainly hope so,' Servil said. He looked over at Sonja and Jacques, who were speaking quietly with Marina. 'I'll drive them to your place,' he said loudly, and Sonja looked up and nodded.

Ed got into the back seat again, and this time he was expecting it when Roy's warm weight settled in beside him.

He tried to fight it – maybe if he stayed awake long enough, they would let him work again – but the rocking motion of the car proved too formidable an opponent to his tired body. He fell asleep, slumped against Roy's side, and before he fell unconscious, he swore at himself. He'd been aiming for the car door.

* * *

It was much lighter and much warmer here, Ed thought as his thoughts began to swim out of the realm of dreams and back into the world of conscious waking. Much more comfortable than the car...

He sat up abruptly, eyes darting around the room, startled. _Where the fuck am I?_ He thought, before he recognised the white walls and the bed covers.

And the arm winding around his waist, tugging him back down.

He followed obligingly, staring at the arm's owner. Roy looked exhausted, the shadows under his eyes matched only by the shadow of stubble around his jaw; Ed felt his own, and grimaced. It had been at least two days since he had shaved. Or showered.

Or anything, really.

He un-winded Roy's arm from his waist, avoiding Roy's grip, and got out of the bed. He rooted around for his things, and swore softly upon the discovery that they weren't in the room; he'd have to venture out into the rest of the house for them.

He opened the door and padded out into the hallway, making a left and walking toward the living room. He jumped and swore aloud when Maes Hughes waved at him cheerfully from his seat on the couch.

'Morning!' Maes greeted. 'I've been waiting for one of you to wake up.' He pushed Ed's suitcase towards him with his foot, smiling all the while. 'Go get cleaned up, and then we can talk.'

Ed obeyed without a word, too surprised to put up a fuss. He retrieved a fresh change of clothes and his other necessities (razor, toothbrush, etc.) and fled down the hall, finding the bathroom on his own. Too many surprises in too short a time were taking their tolls on his brain; why had he woken up in Roy's arms? Why was Maes in the living room?

Hell, he'd settle for knowing what time it was, at this point. He could tell the sun was up – in fact, that was what had woken him in the first place – but not even if it was the next day or the one after it. For all he knew, they had been sleeping for days.

A quick shower, a shave, and a tooth-brushing later, he opened the door to the hall and walked past Roy, who looked so exhausted Ed didn't even manage a remark on the arm as he passed.

'What's with him?' Ed asked pointedly as he came into the living room again, dumping his dirty clothes in the suitcase before collapsing on the couch beside Maes. The older man, grinning (Ed suspected he hadn't stopped grinning since Ed had stumbled into the room the first time) passed him a plate. Ed had to bite back a moan as he realised it held fluffy eggs, bacon, and _pancakes_. Freakin' _pancakes_ – still steaming, too.

Ed had taken his first ravenous bite when Maes said slyly, 'Other than waking up to find his bedmate was gone?'

Ed choked.

'He was up late last night, debriefing me and giving out last minute orders before he joined you in unconsciousness,' Maes continued over Ed's coughing. 'He _was_ kind enough, however, to carry you inside when you conked out in the car.' Maes gave him that grin again, the one he was starting to recognise meant hell. 'You two looked so _sweet_ , too – he looked so tired, and you were just curled up against his shoulder –'

'I'm going to kill you,' Ed warned, waving his fork around vehemently, a bit of egg speared on the end.

Someone stole the fork as they said, 'Not if I get to him first.'

Ed whipped around, shocked, as Roy took his bite of egg and then set the fork down again. Ed looked him over, and was relieved to see him closer to normal than he had looked in the bedroom; the stubble was gone, his hair was brushed, and if there was a hint of tiredness still darkening his eyes, well... it wasn't Ed's place to tell him.

He sat down beside Ed, and immediately tucked into his own plate when Maes set it before him, ignoring both of them as he ate. Ed decided it was no use arguing over the stolen egg, as Roy was so focussed on his own food it would probably make no difference if Ed spoke, or not.

So he stole a piece of egg back, regardless of Roy's warning growl, and then started to eat from his own plate again.

'Equivalent Exchange,' he said when Roy tossed him a baleful glare.

When Ed turned back to him, Maes was trying desperately to hide his smile-bordering-on-a-smirk. 'How about I tell you what's going on?' He said after a moment of Ed death-glaring him and trying to make him combust without alchemy. Maes grinned wider. 'The ring-leader is in custody, despite many attempts to off himself, and the Republic of Drachma has disavowed all knowledge of the scouts or coming invasion.'

'Fuckers,' Ed snorted between bites and was surprised when Roy hummed in agreement beside him.

'Well, they only did that for three hours before our spies confirmed that they had forces within a two day brisk march,' Maes shrugged, and Ed laughed. 'So there are currently several negotiations in the works which may – _emphasis on_ _ **may**_ – open up political negotiations between not only Amestris and Drachma, but between us and Areugo, which as you know,'he gestured a hand at Roy, who was still visibly disinterested, 'has been giving us trouble for the past year.'

'Are they allied with Drachma?' Ed asked, surprised; Maes nodded cheerfully.

'Yep, and if we're lucky, you may have just solved a potential war from two of our bordering countries,' he said, and stole a slice of bacon. 'As soon as you're ready, you can go home.'

Ed blinked. 'Really?' he asked, startled. 'We can go home?'

'Unless you have unfinished business?' Maes asked, and from his tone of voice, Ed could tell he wasn't referring to the fallen buildings.

'Well, fuck you too,' he said before standing, setting his empty plate aside. 'I have a few buildings to reconstruct, if his Bastardliness isn't opposed to me expending a little energy?' This last was directed at Roy (obviously), and the man looked up, startled.

Ed stared at the guarded light in his eyes, and the flecks of something frighteningly close to fear. Roy looked apprehensive as he pushed his plate away and stood, as well, and the guarded look slid into a glare. 'Not without me, you aren't,' he said, sounding irritated. And before Ed could protest – what the fuck was _wrong_ with him today? – he had left to find his jacket.

Maes was grinning again when Ed turned back.

'Are you _really_...' Ed started, still surprised t Maes' nonchalance, before he huffed and looked to the side. What the hell was his problem? _He_ didn't even know what was going on between him and Roy, why was he asking if Maes approved?

'Of course I'm okay with it,' Maes said gently, having already picked up on Ed's train of thought. Ed looked at him, surprised, and gaped when Maes continued, 'He's been trying to deny it for the past six months, but I knew it was coming eventually.'

'Six months?' Ed asked, his heart tripping. 'He's been – like _this_ – he _never_... He wasn't any different!' He flailed, and Maes laughed openly.

'Roy's very private,' Maes said, smiling. 'But you're important to him. I don't think anyone who knows you will be _too_ surprised. You shouldn't worry.'

'But he – but I –'

'But you what, Ed?' Roy asked, walking into the room, Ed's coat in his hands as well and his eyebrow arched high. 'And complete sentences – I don't understand random words.'

'Oh, fuck off,' Ed snarled, snatching up his jacket, his cheeks flaring red when the two men laughed. 'Can we go, or do I have to stand here all day?'

'I'll go get the car,' Maes said cheekily, and was gone.

Ed stared at the place he had been, shocked. 'He shouldn't be able to move that fast...' he said quietly.

'Ed.'

Ed turned, and sat abruptly (thank Gate for the couch) when Roy was too close. To his intense discomfort, Roy stepped closer, towering over him.

'Does it really disturb you this much?' he asked quietly, and Ed gulped.

'It's not, um, disturbing, per se,' Ed stammered as Roy leaned down further, bracing his hands above Ed's shoulders. 'It's just- well, it's... surprising?'

'Surprising,' Roy repeated, his voice sounding amused.

'Six months?' Ed asked, taking a deep breath. 'I just... I can't... I only thought of this _yesterday_ , Roy!' He stared up at Roy, willing him to understand through his eyes, because words failed him. 'I didn't even think – I didn't know – I only realised that I was in –' and he froze, acutely aware of what he'd been about to say.

So, it seemed, was Roy, who was staring at him. Ed felt his hands curl into the fabric beside his shoulders, and Roy swallowed noiselessly. 'You were in...?' he said, as if prompting Ed to say it.

Ed's cheeks burned, but he didn't take his eyes off Roy's. 'I was attracted to you,' he said, uncertainly.

Roy leaned closer, and Ed felt his entire skin electrify. 'That wasn't what you were going to say,' Roy whispered. 'Would it help if I said it first?'

'I... what?' Ed murmured back, entranced.

'What if I said it first?' Roy said quietly, then, before Ed could either deny him or accept him, he said it.

'I love you.'

Ed froze. This was too much, too soon. He didn't – he _couldn't –_

'I thought you were _straight_!' Ed blurted, and Roy laughed.

'I've kissed you twice now, neither of which were what anyone would call chaste,' Roy chuckled. 'Are you so certain now?'

'I – mmph!'

Roy kissed him before he could form an adequate response, his tongue seeking out Ed's.

Ed moaned and moved without thinking, dragging Roy down roughly; Roy fell to his knees, managing to avoid Ed's legs, and Ed reached up, wrapping his arms around his neck and dragging him closer.

Roy's hands abandoned their perches on either side of Ed in favour of winding around his waist, pulling him up tighter to his body until Ed wasn't sure where he ended and Roy began –

'Mhm. Well, I can at least be thankful clothes are still on.'

Shockingly, the voice wasn't Maes' – but Sonja's. Roy actually dropped Ed to the couch with a startled sound, and Ed cracked his head off the wall, before both turned to stare at the smug woman.

'Brigadier General Hughes sent me in, because, and I quote, "I do _not_ want to know that much about those two",' She said, grinning. 'Well, I _did_ tell you two to keep each other close. I'm just glad it worked out.' She walked over and both Ed and Roy were standing in an instant – Ed, red-faced and staring off to the side, Roy, trying to look perfectly composed and failing.

'Right, out you go,' she said cheerfully, ushering both of them out the front door, 'And _do_ remember to visit – I know it's cold, but it's really quite lovely in the summer, all wild-flowers and water fountains and the other fiddly little bits that make Sobren so pretty. Oh!'

They paused, looking back at her from their spot on the top step.

She grinned mischievously. 'And happy holidays,' she said, before shutting the door firmly in their faces.

Behind them, Maes laughed wickedly, and Ed barely resisted the desire to hide his face in his hands.

Barely.

* * *

Ed stared at the pile of charred wood and twisted metal, and gave a low whistle. 'Those bastards did a number on this place, didn't they?' he said, cataloguing the damage in his mind: every one of the little apartments, not to mention the main building, had been completely disintegrated. He sighed. 'Do you have a floor plan, or something?' He said, turning to Servil with a cocked eyebrow. 'I can fix it, but not without an idea of where everything should go.'

'Here,' Servil replied, handing him a blueprint, which was worth two floor plans and a diorama, in Ed's opinion. 'I thought as much.'

Ed studied it, committing every detail to mind. _All that research as a kid finally paid off_ , he thought amusedly as Roy touched his shoulder. He looked up.

'Will you need any help with this?' Roy asked, eyes searching. Behind him, Ed could hear Maes snickering, and he shot the man a glare before turning back to Roy.

'No, I should be fine,' he said, smiling (to his own surprise, not to mention Roy's). 'Just give me a few minutes and this will be standing again.' He turned back to the blueprint and was finished in under a minute. Roy's hand was still on his shoulder when he went to clap, and he shot the man a reproving glance as he shook it off.

Then he was kneeling, eyes scrunched in concentration as he rebuilt the inn from literally ashes.

It wasn't a difficult transmutation at all, but it was an intensive one, requiring him to hold each construction in mind with each new one, lest the construction be unwieldy and prone to falling. Hell of a present if it just broke at the first opportunity. But as the wood formed again, curving sometimes, rising others, he _felt_ it under his fingertips; the xylem that made up wood, each little, flat cell, grew under his fingertips and _lived_ , breathed.

It was _alive_ , and he was creating it.

The energy flow decreased dramatically, and he released the transmutation; there was nothing more he could do.

When he turned, he found himself the recipient of several slack-jawed stares.

'It's...' Marina whispered.

'It's living, yes,' Ed sighed. He cocked an eyebrow. 'Should be an interesting draw, shouldn't it?'

Roy's look, though, was by fr the most entertaining. He walked up to the wood and brushed it with his fingers, staring at it as if he was in a dream. 'You just brought long-dead wood to life,' he said in a curiously monotone voice.

'It wasn't exactly what I intended to do,' Ed replied defensively. Following Roy around the outside of the wall, as the others went to gawk about inside, he continued, 'It just... sort of happened.'

'It just sort of happened,' Roy repeated, turning to look at him, and Ed blushed furiously.

'So what?' he demanded. 'I just –'

Roy stepped forward, and Ed backed up, startled, before his back met warm wood – the wall. 'You _just_ created life in place that ought never to have seen it again,' Roy said quietly, stepping closer. Ed sucked in a breath when Roy didn't stop until they were chest to chest, literally, and Roy's hands came to rest on his shoulders. The man smiled. 'You're always over or underestimating yourself,' he said.

They stood like that a moment, and Ed took the chance to just soak in Roy's warmth as a wind struck up. He leaned his head forward, resting it against Roy's chest, and Roy set his chin on Ed's crown.

It was nice, if a little embarrassing; if Maes had walked up on them, Ed knew he would never live it down. But no one came, and they stood there for what felt like forever, slowly relaxing into one another.

Later, Ed would be thankful for this moment – it was likely they would never have found the time to learn that relaxing into each other and stayed tense, uncertain, unwelcome. But instead, Ed placed his arms around Roy's waist and just held on, and Roy held on, and it was _right._

They parted, and Ed felt his face flush red. Roy laughed, and brushed some of Ed's fringe out of his eyes. 'Don't be embarrassed,' he chided as they started walking back, and Ed jumped, startled, when Roy's fingers threaded with his. He looked up with wide eyes, and Roy smiled again.

'I didn't expect you to...' Ed said, uncertain. Roy's smile spurred him on. 'To be so – so _sweet_ ,' he confessed, and burned red when Roy laughed again. 'Well, it's true!' Ed replied hotly. 'Honestly, I thought you'd be bastardly and flirtatious and – and – oh, _fuck_ you!' he snapped when Roy's laughter grew.

Suddenly, he was pressed to the wall, staring up startled into Roy's eyes, which were all but burning. 'Would you prefer it if I was that way?' he asked seriously, his gaze searching Ed's as if the answer would be written in Ed's irises. 'If I was bastardly and flirtatious and everything you thought I was?'

At that, Ed's temper flared up. 'No,' Ed hissed. 'That's not _you_ , is it?'

Roy's look of surprise was worth it.

'Well?' Ed demanded, and his hands came up behind Roy, to dig into the cloth and press Roy closer. The man stumbled slightly and fell into Ed; he held him up without complaint, just glaring into his eyes. 'That's _not_ you. You just pretend to be a bastard in the office, don't you, just so that no one can intimidate you or make it look like you're weak. You do it so that you can become Fuhrer.'

No, _this_ look of complete and utter shock was worth it.

'Right?' Ed snapped.

'Right,' Roy replied faintly, and then shoved Ed against the wall with his body and kissed him.

...Ed had been expecting that, to be honest, though he _hadn't_ expected the sensuality of it, the heat, the sensation. It more closely resembled that first _moment_ when they had come into contact, Roy thrown atop him and groaning, 'Oh, _God_...'

They were too close, too needy, part of Ed's mind noted absently as he kissed and licked and arched against Roy, grinding upward with sharp, dark noises of longing. Roy met each one with a low growl of possessiveness, short and demanding, as if lying claim to even the noises Ed could make. He bit Ed's lip, hard enough for pain, but Ed didn't mind – hell, Roy could start stripping him here against this wall, in the middle of public, and he wouldn't mind.

Public. Right.

'We – we really need to work on timing, or something,' Ed gasped out, breaking away. He was almost drawn back in by Roy's soft moan of loss, but managed to keep his head. 'Really, Roy, we're in _public_ , and I'm still your subordinate.'

'So?' Roy asked, and Ed bit back a laugh at the petulant noise in the back of his voice.

'So, if we're going to do this –'

'Which we are,' Roy interrupted, glaring down. Ed rolled his eyes.

'Of course, dumb ass. You haven't taken care of _this_ , yet.' Again, the word _this_ was punctuated with a sharp jerk upward of Ed's hips, and Roy's head fell to rest on Ed's shoulder, grinding back almost helplessly.

Ed's head tilted back to hit to the wall, and the pain of that was the only thing that kept him from succumbing again. His hands found Roy's hips and held them at bay, whimpering slightly himself when Roy groaned.

'Seriously, later,' he said, and Roy gave him an irritated look when he lifted his head.

'Why do you choose _now_ , of all times, to get a level head?' he demanded, but stepped away. Even his clothes were reluctant to part from Ed, the buttons of his jacket having tangled with the folds of Ed's coat, and Ed bit back another laugh.

They walked back out to the front, each trying to think of anything but the other; Ed knew _he_ was having a hard time of it, but _honestly_. Was a little privacy too much to ask, instead of fucking each other here where anyone could see them?

A hand on his shoulder, and he looked up to see Roy smiling at him. 'Don't worry about it,' he said, and then swiftly brushed his lips against Ed's before they came out to the front.

Ed nodded, swallowing tightly, and then turned to Hughes, who was walking up to them.

'The train's set and ready to go,' he chirped. Ed started.

'But the other buildings –' he protested.

'We'll rebuild them,' Servil called over from his continued inspection of the building. 'You two go home.'

Ed stared. 'But –'

'No, off you go!' Marina said cheerfully. A child – the little boy from a few days ago, Ed realised – peeked out from behind her skirts, smiling shyly. 'Have a vacation – God knows you've earned it!'

'But I –'

'Here we go!' Maes said, gripping Ed's arm and dragging him off. The taller man waved at Servil and Marina as Roy followed, bemused. Ed struggled, but it was no use.

He greatly suspected there was something wrong here.

* * *

Ed collapsed on the bench, disgruntled and sour. 'Man, as soon as I finish something you idiots ship me off again before I can enjoy myself,' he said loudly, closing his eyes in irritation.

Maes chuckled from the opposite bench as the sound of a sliding door closing reverberated around the private compartment. 'You'll have a bit of a break before your next assignment, I'd think,' he said lightly. 'You did just prevent a war.'

'When was the last time the military cared about that?' Ed snapped back peevishly.

'Wars _are_ an unnecessary drain on resources,' Roy remarked, his voice coming from somewhere to the right of Maes' voice; Ed wasn't inclined to look and confirm it, though. 'Money, food, weapons...'

'And the chance that you'd have to fight are high,' Maes chided. 'So you just saved yourself infinitely more work than you just did.'

'Whatever,' Ed huffed. 'It's been three days since we left Central, we've managed to cop-out on a war, and I'm stuck in a little car with _you_ two – his Bastardliness and Mr. Father of the Fucking Year.' He ignored the two other men's exclamations of disagreement, choosing instead to sigh, 'Is there any good news?'

'Well...' Maes said craftily, and Ed could almost _hear_ the glare shot at him from Roy. 'What?' Maes asked.

Roy's voice was a thick rumble of warning. 'That's supposed to be a secret.'

'So?' Maes said brightly, and then, before Roy could respond, he said, 'Al is coming up to Central to visit for the holidays.'

Ed was up like a shot, staring at Maes. 'No way!' he said, gaping at Maes' nod. 'He is? Really? I thought he would have been busy with classes!'

'I know you never went to school, Ed,' Roy sighed in a long-suffering voice, 'But there is such thing as a vacation. Such as the holiday vacation.'

The thought of his little brother – halfway through his first year of college, his major still undecided but likely to be biology, and so cheerful, even with the memories of being a suit of armour – took all the sting out of Roy's comment. 'He's really coming...' Ed sighed happily, sinking back to the bench.

'Maes,' Roy said, sounding irritated, 'Al's going to be so disappointed when he finds out that you told Ed.'

Before Maes could respond, Ed piped up, 'Nah, he won't be pissed.'

His eyes closed again, he could only register their looks of disbelief as sensation on his face. 'I'd watch your photo collection, though, Maes,' he shrugged. 'You'd be surprised how creative Al can get with his alchemy.'

He frowned, ignoring Maes' gabbled response as he thought. 'Maybe he'll be an artist, instead of a biologist,' he mused aloud.

'You have absolute faith in him, don't you?' Roy asked softly as Maes began fretting over the photos he had with him. Ed opened his eyes to see Roy studying him passively, his eyes soft in a way that made Ed feel... light.

'Well, I don't give out absolute faith for free,' he shrugged self-consciously, then gave Roy a grin. 'Only to those who've earned it.'

He let Roy's answering smile wash over him before he closed his eyes again. Might as well sleep on the way back – there wasn't anything else to do.

_At least_ , Ed thought savagely, _not with Maes in the compartment._

* * *

Two days later, in his apartment back in Central, Ed was reading a book upside down while Al hummed absent-mindedly and turned another page in his biology text book. Tonight, he would be leaving for school again – he had an exam tomorrow in East City, a mandatory one. Another page turn, and Ed sighed, dropping the book onto his stomach.

There was something missing, he decided. Yes, it was all well and good that Al was back, even if only for a few days; he had, indeed, been irritated when he had shown up to see Ed had already made dinner for him and was sitting at the table, smirking cockily. He had also transmuted all (and Ed meant _all_ ) of the photos in Maes office into a giant paper aeroplane that had exploded into photographs all over Maes' outer office, much to the man's horror. Ed had laughed until it hurt, and Al had laughed with him; it had been _good_.

But he was restless now, resorting to reading _upside-down_ just to have something to do. He hadn't known down-time could be so _boring_.

Which was weird, in and of itself; normally, he relished his down-time, but now he couldn't set his mind to anything. He just felt distracted all the time, and he sighed again as he picked up the book. For the fourth time.

Al huffed in annoyance and set his text book down. 'Why don't you just go –' Al started, silvery eyes quivering in anger, when a loud, abrupt knock startled silence out of him.

'I'll get it,' Ed smiled, standing up and walking over. The knock came again when he was a few steps way, and he scowled; whoever it was, they were incredibly impatient. 'Who is it –' he demanded as he opened the door, then froze. 'Roy?' he asked, shocked.

He only got a split second to notice that the man looked a bit haggard before Roy swept forward and kissed him, bearing him backwards until he met a wall with a not entirely-comfortable smack.

Ed didn't care. He reached up and tangled his fingers into Roy's hair. clutching at his scalp and dragging him closer, making a hungry noise when Roy pressed him harder against the wall.

Roy broke away abruptly, sucking in a tight breath; Ed stared at his eyes, dark and hazed and _his_ , completely.

'Hello, Alphonse.'

A blush slammed Ed's world to a halt as he realised what, exactly, had happened. He turned his head to Al, who looked shocked.

'Al!' Ed said loudly, as if volume could better convey his panic. 'This isn't what it looks like! I swear!'

Al snorted, the look of shock fading away. 'I'm a college student, Brother,' he said calmly. 'It's exactly what it looks like.'

Ed gaped as Al smiled at Roy, who had turned to look at the younger man as well. 'Hello, sir,' Al said respectfully. He set his book down and stood. 'I have some other friends to visit in the city,' he said, turning his smile on Ed. 'I'll be back later.'

'You'll be back – wait! What's going on?' Ed looked from Roy to Al, both of whom were looking at him with small smiles on their faces. 'You two were planning this! Al, when I get my hands on you, you are _beyond_ dead, am I understood?'

'Been there before, wasn't much fun,' Al shrugged, smiling harder, and Ed blinked; Al had never made such light-hearted jokes about his previous existence before, but now there was a brilliance in his eyes. Ed smiled back, tentatively, and Al's grin broadened. 'Later!' he said cheerfully, and was out the door before Ed could protest.

Roy was laughing quietly, and Ed snapped his gaze back to him, glaring. 'And you!' he snarled. 'Since when do you have the right to –'

Then Roy was kissing him again, so hard and so _right_ that Ed could only moan, could only let himself be wrapped up in Roy's arms and give in.

Roy broke away, and Ed couldn't see straight, couldn't think straight, and he could only manage one word at a time. 'Bed,' he demanded, panting, their breathing loud in his ears. 'Now –'

'Where?' Roy whispered, seemingly brought down to the same level of coherence. A flash-fire of pride went through Ed at that, but he shoved it aside. Time enough for that later. 'Where?' Roy repeated, and this time he rocked his hips against Ed's, as if to hasten a reply.

' _Fuck_ – Behind – follow me – ' Ed managed, and stumbled backward, a hand releasing Roy to feel behind him so that he didn't trip and fall into something. His hand found the doorknob to his room and opened it, letting them stumble through.

They had hardly gone two steps before Roy tripped him _on purpose_ , so that he fell, shouting in surprise, onto the bed. He couldn't find it within himself to care, though, because then Roy's hands were attempting to strip him of his shirt and it was a race to see who could remove more clothing faster.

Roy had an unfair advantage, as he was wearing most of his uniform and Ed was dressed in civilian clothes. Ed made up for that with pure speed, refusing to lose or feel bad when he ripped few buttons. It wasn't like he couldn't transmute them back on.

He forgot that, though, because he (by some miracle) finished first, and then his mind was wiped out by _Roy_.

Dammit, but if he'd known Roy could do this to him – capture him so completely with a glance and a kiss – then maybe he would never have done this.

Roy finally rid Ed of his clothes and set about reminding Ed that, to be fair, they were incredible kisses. And hands. And actually, at this moment just about everything about Roy was incredible, and would be more so if the _bastard_ – would just – stop _teasing_!

'Ah!' Ed cried out as Roy bit down on his collarbone, a rough, exhilarated growl of joy reverberating along his skin. Roy's hands skimmed down, rubbing, teasing further, and Ed couldn't take much more, he _knew_ it. 'Just _fuck_ me already!' he demanded, and flushed deep red at the needy whine in his voice.

Roy moaned, the sound soaking straight into Ed's skin, and looked up. 'Then do as I say,' he said, 'or it won't _nearly_ be what I want to give you.'

Ed was impressed with the full sentence, he had to admit, and nodded. Roy pressed another kiss to his throat and his hands moved down. 'Relax.'

And, remarkably, Ed did. He supposed it had something to do with the fact that Roy said it in a voice that was dark and honey-rich, bell-sweet and music to Ed's ears. His legs fell open at Roy's touch, and when Roy entered him, first with a finger and then with his cock, Ed made _damn_ sure to follow the one instruction he'd been given.

Even if it was incredibly difficult. It hurt a bit – there was no lube, and practically no stretching beforehand – but damn it, Ed was a man. If he couldn't deal with a little pain after the hell he'd already been through, he would never forgive himself.

Besides, whatever pain there was (and there wasn't much, anyway) was worth the pure sensation of Roy inside him, his cock heavy with desire for _Ed_ , and his gasping breaths in time with Ed's was a bliss all its own.

'Move,' Ed groaned. Roy, who's face was pressed into the crook of Ed's shoulder, looked up.

'What?'

'Move!' Ed undulated his hips against Roy, not even wincing when that buried Roy deeper. There was something to the strange sensation of deep intrusion that made his mouth water, made him want more; it wasn't pleasure, precisely – or, at least not his.

Roy groaned and slid out before thrusting back in, and his eyes were glazed over. That was what was getting Ed off – the fact that he could do this to Roy, could make him –

Ed saw stars. That was the only way to describe the sudden rush of dancing white on Roy's next thrust, the burst of pleasure so palpable he could feel it like heat-spots on his skin.

'Roy!' he cried out, jerking up, and Roy did it _again_. 'What the hell is – _fuck_! – that? What are you – oh, _Gate_ , don't fucking _stop_!'

Roy slammed harder into him at that, and the wave of white was stronger, impossible. Roy pushed him back and Ed went willingly, letting Roy hook his leg over Roy's shoulder and go _deeper_ (something he had thought was impossible.)

'Slow – slow down –' Ed gasped, trying to blink back the stars to see Roy's face. 'I can't – slow –'

Roy seemed to have heard him, because the unbearable pressure became a little less unbearable, the movements slowed, and Roy groaned in Ed's ear.

Between gasps and cries, Ed managed to ask, 'What _was_ that?'

'Your prostate,' Roy answered thickly, his lips moving against Ed's earlobe. ' _Fuck_ , Ed, I can't –'

'Faster,' Ed cut in, because he knew what Roy was asking, felt it in the tremors of Roy's body. 'Gate, move _faster_ –'

And then Roy was slamming into him again, and Ed couldn't hold it back, not for the world. It broke into his bones and set him free, the stars melting into his skin with the heat of plasma, his heart hammering a thousand kims an hour and he felt Roy arch one final time and stay there, buried.

If Ed had thought he had ever orgasmed before, he was proved wrong. Completely, utterly wrong, because he hadn't known it could be so powerful, the way it swept out from his gut and left his whole body shuddering, aching, entwined with Roy's and _sated_.

That satiation kept them from moving, leaving them slumped together. Ed's leg rolled off Roy's shoulder, land with a thump beside Roy's thigh, and Roy pressed kisses to Ed's damp skin, tongue occasionally flicking out to taste the salt lining his collarbone.

'I love you,' Ed murmured quietly, once the pleasure had passed and he was just warm and soft in Roy's arms.

Roy's head snapped up, and the lazy look in his eyes was wiped away by a look of shock.

'You were right,' Ed smiled, and he kissed the corner of Roy's mouth. 'Back at Sonja's house, I wasn't going to say I was attracted to you. I was going to say I was in love with you.' He shrugged self-consciously, the movement brushing Roy's chin. 'I was... uncertain.'

'If you're saying this because we just had sex –' Roy warned, and Ed laughed.

'The last two days have been _hell_ ,' Ed replied to a rather affronted Roy. 'Without you, I mean. To know that you were so close and that we could have _this_ if we wanted to, but you weren't here and I didn't know where you'd be.' He scowled. 'I hate waiting.'

'I'm sorry,' Roy said, and the naked honesty in his voice warmed Ed from the inside out. 'I won't keep you waiting next time.'

'About time,' Ed snapped, but he was smiling. He pushed Roy off of him, and his entire body shuddered with a secondary wave of pleasure when Roy was jostled loose.

'Get your clothes,' Ed commanded, already reaching for a notepad and pencil.

'What?' Roy blinked, looking startled. 'Why?'

'Because we're going to your house, now,' Ed replied matter-of-factly as he scribbled a note to Al, saying good bye and hoping he would understand why he wouldn't have Ed with him when he left. 'When Al comes back, we'd have to be quiet, and that's too much work.'

'Alright then,' Roy said, and immediately went for his clothes.

Ed ignored the mild swears as Roy realised half of his buttons were gone, because it didn't matter. He could transmute the buttons, and they would go to Roy's house, and they would go slower. They had forever, if they took it, and Ed wasn't the sort of person to give things up without a serious fight.

He greatly suspected Roy was the same way.

'Hey, bastard?' Ed asked, and Roy looked up from his belt.

'Yes, Ed?'

'On the train to Sobren, you said that you were going to visit family.' Ed arched his eyebrow. 'Is that where you were for the past two days.'

'Yes – well, after a fashion,' Roy shrugged. 'I was home for all of an hour before my family kicked me out of the house and locked the door after me, demanding that I come here and find you. The train ride is a long one, so I wasn't pleased.'

Ed laughed at that. Then, a Plan – yes, with a capital P – popped into his head. 'How long, exactly, is the train ride?' he asked.

'Eighteen hours, give or take,' Roy replied, then his eyes narrowed. 'Why?'

'Nothing, nothing...' Ed replied with an innocent grin, already calculating ticket costs and how pissed Hawkeye would be if he kidnapped her CO. 'Ready to go?'

Roy sighed, a long-suffering tone to his voice as he said, 'Yes.'

Ed pulled on his pants, threw on a new shirt, grabbed his coat from the chair it was flung over, and gestured out his open bedroom door. 'Lead the way,' he said with a smile, and as Roy tried to sidle passed him Ed jerked him down for a brief kiss.

...Which quickly became a not-so-brief kiss that had had him pressed against the hallway wall. Ed could live with that.

Like he had said. They had forever, if they took it.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave a comment if you enjoyed it!


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